Spinoza's Short treatise on God, man & his wellbeing

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SPINOZA S SHORT TREATISE ON
GOD, MAN, & HIS WELL-BEING

STUDIES IN LOGIC
By A. WOLF

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS, 1905

NATURAL REALISM AND PRESENT

TENDENCIES IN PHILOSOPHY

By A. WOLF

(IN "PROCEEDINGS OF THE ARISTOTELIAN SOCIETY"

VOL. IX.)
WILLIAMS AND NORGATE, 1 909

ARISTOTLE IN MEDIEVAL
JEWISH THOUGHT
By A. WOLF

(IN "ASPECTS OF THE HEBREW GENIUS")
ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, 1909

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I

SPINOZA S SHORT TREATISE

ON

OD,M AN, ftf HIS WELL-BEING

TRANSLATED AND EDITED, WITH AN

INTRODUCTION AND COMMENTARY

AND A

LIFE OF SPINOZA

BY

A. WOLF, M.A., D.LiT.

ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY AT, AND FELLOW OF, UNIVERSITY COLLEGE, LONDON,

LECTURER ON LOGIC AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD AT THE LONDON SCHOOL OF

ECONOMICS AND POLITICAL SCIENCE, AND EXAMINER

TO THE UNIVERSITY OF LONDON

LONDON
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK

1910

3&13

- \ ^c \ "b

AUG 2 3 1944

PREFACE

THIS volume is primarily intended to be an introduction to
the philosophy of Spinoza. The Short Treatise, though by
no means free from difficulties, is well adapted for the pur
pose. It contains the essentials of Spinoza s philosophy in
a less exacting form than the Ethics with its rigid geometric
method. The Short Treatise cannot, of course, take the
place of the Ethics y but it prepares the way for a much
easier and more profitable study of it than is otherwise
possible. The Introduction and the Commentary provide all
the help that the reader is likely to require.

At the same time, the Short Treatise has a special interest
for more advanced students of Spinoza as the most im
portant aid to the study of the origin and development of
his philosophy. And their needs have not been overlooked.
Every care has been taken to give a faithful version of the
Treatise ; notice is taken of all variant readings and notes
which are likely to be of any importance ; even peculi
arities of punctuation and the lavish use of capital letters
are for the most part reproduced here from the Dutch manu
scripts. And the Introduction and the Commentary, though
largely superfluous for the advanced student, will, it is hoped,
also be found to contain something that may be interesting
and helpful even to him.

The Translation was, in the first instance, based on the
Dutch text contained in Van Vloten and Land s second
edition of Spinoza s works. Subsequently, however, I spent
a very considerable amount of time and trouble in going
through the manuscripts themselves, with the result that
the present version may, I think, claim to be more complete
than any of the published editions or translations.

The Life of Spinoza, which forms the greater part of the
Introduction, is based on an independent study of all the
available material. This material has been considerably
increased in recent years by the researches of the late Prof.
Freudenthal, Dr. K. O. Meinsma, and Dr. W. Meyer, so that
the older biographies of Spinoza require correction in some
respects. I have also utilised to a greater extent than has
been done hitherto all that is known of contemporary

vi PREFACE

Jewish history and Jewish life, and have devoted more
attention to Manasseh ben Israel than he has so far received
in this connection. It has not been thought necessary to
give detailed references to authorities, because the earliest
biographies and all the available documents relating to
Spinoza have been edited by Prof. Freudenthal in a single
volume under the title of Die Lebensgeschichte Spinozas, and
the evidence can easily be found there. For the general
history of the period I consulted Motley, Blok, and the
Cambridge Modern History ; and Graetz, for the history of
the Jews.

In the second part of the Introduction I confined myself
to such a general statement of the history, &c., of the Short
Treatise as may be followed without any previous knowledge
of the Treatise itself, leaving details for the Commentary,
where they are dealt with as occasion arises. By the aid of
facsimiles the reader is enabled to judge for himself on
various matters which would otherwise have to be taken on
trust. In the preparation of this part and of the remainder
of the volume I found the writings of Prof. Freudenthal,
Dr. W. Meyer, and C. Sigwart very helpful, and I am also
indebted more or less to the other writers mentioned on
pp. cxxvii/., or in other parts of the volume.

In conclusion, I desire to acknowledge my obligations to
all who have helped me in any way. Dr. Byvanck (Libra
rian of the Royal Library, The Hague) and Mr. Chambers
(Librarian of University College, London) have enabled me
to consult the MSS. with as little inconvenience as possible.
The Royal Society has given me permission to reproduce
the facsimile on p. Ix. Prof. S. Alexander, of the University
of Manchester, has read the Introduction in proof, and made
valuable suggestions. I wish to thank them all very cordially,
and I hope that the usefulness of the result may in some
measure compensate for all the trouble given and taken in
the preparation of this volume.

A. WOLF

HARROW, November 1909

CONTENTS

PAGE

INTRODUCTION ix

I. THE LIFE OF SPINOZA

I. HISTORICAL ANTECEDENTS xi

2. THE HOME OF SPINOZA Xvi

3. THE EDUCATION OF SPINOZA Xxlv
4. SPINOZA S ALIENATION FROM THE SYNAGOGUE

1654-1656 xxxii

5. THE LAST YEARS OF SPINOZA S STAY IN AND

NEAR AMSTERDAM 1656-1660 xlviii

6. SPINOZA S STAY IN RIJNSBURG 1660-1663 Ivi

7. SPINOZA S STAY IN VOORBURG 1663-1670 Ixviii

8. SPINOZA S STAY IN THE HAGUE 1670-1677 Ixxxi

Q. THE CHARACTER OF SPINOZA XCVH

II. HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE

I. THE DISCOVERY OF THE MANUSCRIPTS Cm
2. THE HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPTS Cvl
3. THE TWO MANUSCRIPTS COMPARED CXvill
4. THE COMPONENT PARTS OF THE " SHORT TREA
TISE " CXX
5. THE ORIGIN AND CHARACTER OF THE "SHORT

TREATISE" cxxiii

6. LITERATURE ON THE "SHORT TREATISE" CXXvil

TRANSLATION OF THE SHORT TREATISE. (See

Separate Table of Contents, pp. 9, I o) I

COMMENTARY 163

INDEX 241

VII

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

1. THE "SPINOZA-HUIS " AT RIJNSBURG Frontispiece

PAGE

2. FACSIMILE OF SPINOZA S AUTOGRAPH Ix

(Conclusion of second letter to Oldenburg)

3 THE STATUE OF SPINOZA AT THE HAGUE facing xCVU

4. FACSIMILE OF A POEM SIGNED BY MONNIKHOFF Cviii

5. FACSIMILE OF PAGE 14 IN A Cxil

6. FACSIMILE OF PAGE 23 IN B CXlii

7. FACSIMILE OF TITLE-PAGE OF A 5

8. FACSIMILE OF TITLE-PAGE OF B 7

Q. PORTRAIT OF SPINOZA AS IN CODEX A >,

between

10. FACSIMILE OF MONNIKHOFF s VERSES FACING THE \iQandll

PORTRAIT J

11. FACSIMILE OF FIRST PAGE OF A facing 12

12. FACSIMILE OF FIRST PAGE OF B 14

Vlll

INTRODUCTION

I. THE LIFE OF SPINOZA
II. HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE

" So steht es vor uns, dies Denkerleben, ganz der Wahrheit
geweiht, und darin ebcn beruht die Erhabenheit seiner
stillen Grosse. Denn zu sterben fur die Wahrheit, sagt
man, sei schwer schwerer ist es fur sie zu leben."-
\V. \YINDELBAND, Zwm Ged^chinis Spinozas.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA

i. HISTORICAL ANTECEDENTS

BARUCH or Benedict * Spinoza was born of Jewish parents,
on the 24th of November 1632, at Amsterdam. At that
time the Jews of Amsterdam consisted almost entirely of
refugees, or the children of refugees, who had escaped from
Spain and Portugal, where they had lived as crypto-Jews,
in constant dread of the Inquisition.

Spain had been the home of Jews long before the intro
duction of Christianity. Under non-Christian rule they
enjoyed considerable power and prosperity. With the in
troduction of Christianity, however, came the desire to
convert the Jews ; and as the Church was not very nice or
scrupulous about the methods employed, there commenced
a series of intermittent barbarities which stained the annals
of medieval Christianity for many centuries. Fortunately
for the Jews these persecutions were neither universal
nor constant. Bad blood broke out now here, now there,
but there were usually also healthy spots, and healthy
members, immune from the fell disease. While the
fanaticism of the mob was often irritated by envy, the
fanaticism of princes was, as a rule, overcome by their
personal interests. For the Jews of Spain numbered some
of the bravest soldiers, some of the ablest Ministers of State,
and, above all, some of the most resourceful financiers. The
Kings of Spain and Portugal, accordingly, took the Jews under
their protection, though they could not always prevent out
breaks which involved the loss of thousands of Jewish lives.
During periods of respite, Jews outvied their neighbours in

* Benedicius is simply the Latin equivalent of the Hebrew Bafuch.

xi

xii INTRODUCTION

their devotion to literature, science, and philosophy. They
produced eminent poets, celebrated doctors and astro
nomers, and most influential philosophers. Indeed the
tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries have come to be re
garded as the golden age in the history of the Jews since
the dispersion, and that chiefly through the distinction
achieved by the Jews of Spain. But fanaticism neither
slumbered nor slept. And the climax was reached in the
year 1492, when, under the baneful influence of Torque-
mada, the Jews were expelled from Spain, in spite of the
golden promises made by Ferdinand and Isabella so long
as they needed Jewish aid against Moorish foes. Baptism
or banishment such were the alternatives offered to the
Jews. And those who preferred the wanderer s staff to the
baptismal font were prohibited from taking away their gold
or silver with them. Some two hundred thousand Jews or
more paid the penalty for their religious loyalty, and
wandered forth from their native land, the home of their
fathers and forefathers for centuries ; many thousands of
them only to meet with an untimely death owing to the
hardships of their wanderings. Some fifty thousand, how
ever, chose baptism, and remained in Spain. Many of them
remained Jews at heart, fighting the Jesuits with their own
weapons, until an opportunity should present itself of
making good their escape with what worldly goods they
possessed. Some of these crypto-Jews (or Maranos,* as
they were called), as also many of the original exiles of
1492, found refuge for a time in Portugal. But only for a
short time. Soon the hounds of the Inquisition were on the
scent for the Jewish blood of the New Christians, in Portugal
as well as in Spain. The most frivolous pretext served
as sufficient evidence. Countless converts, or descendants

* The etymology of the name Mavano is uncertain. But it seems to have
been applied to the New Christians in the sense of " the damned," possibly
in allusion to i Corinthians, xvi. 22 : // any man loveth not the Lord, let him
be anathema maranatha.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xiii

of converts, were condemned to the dungeon, the rack and
the stake without mercy, while princes and priests shared the
spoils without scruple. No wonder that the eyes of Spanish
and Portuguese Maranos were ever strained in search of
cities of refuge. About a century after the expulsion from
Spain, good tidings came from the revolted Netherlands.

Not content with the wholesale expulsion and slaughter
of Jews and Moors, the Spanish Inquisition turned its
attention to all Christians who were in any way suspected
of the slightest disloyalty to Roman Catholicism. And the
work of this " holy office " was vastly extended in scope
when the religious policy of Ferdinand and Isabella was
adopted by their grandson, the Emperor Charles V., who
desired nothing less than the entire extermination of all
heresies and heretics, so that the world and the fulness
thereof might be reserved for the exclusive enjoyment of
Roman Catholics, with the Emperor at their head. In
accordance with his policy he issued various edicts for the
extirpation of sects and heresies, and introduced the Inqui
sition into the Netherlands, with which alone we are here
concerned. On the abdication of Charles in 1555, his son,
King Philip II., continued his religious policy, only with far
greater zeal. Within a month of his accession to the throne
he re-enacted his father s edicts against heresy, and four years
later he obtained from Pope Paul IV. a Bull for an ominous
strengthening of the Church in the Netherlands. Instead
of the four Bishoprics then existing, there were to be three
Archbishoprics with fifteen Bishoprics under them, each
Bishop to appoint nine additional prebendaries, who were to
assist him in the matter of the Inquisition, two of these to
be inquisitors themselves. Four thousand Spanish troops
were stationed in the Netherlands, the government was more
or less in the hands of Anthony Perrenot, Archbishop of
Mechlin (better known as Cardinal Granvelle), a kind of
Torquemada after Philip s own heart, and his underling the

xiv INTRODUCTION

inquisitor Peter Titelmann, who rushed through the country
like a tempest, and snatched away whole families to their
destruction, without being called to account by any one.
Fortunately for the Netherlands, William of Orange, Stadt-
holder of Holland, Zeeland and Utrecht, had learned from
King Henry of France the whole extent of Philip s bloody
schemes for the extirpation of dissenters. Though at that
time a Catholic himself, he revolted from such heartless
inhumanity in the guise of religion, and determined to
watch and wait. In the meantime, the holy inquisitors
had ample opportunity to slake their unholy thirst.
Wedged in between France and Germany, the Netherlands
were naturally influenced by the Calvinism of the one and
the Lutheranism of the other. Under the circumstances,
to give unlimited power to the Inquisition meant practi
cally to condemn a whole people to death. The people were
furious. Various leagues and confederacies were formed.
The position of affairs seemed for a time so threatening that
the Regent, Margaret of Parma, a worthy disciple of
Loyola, granted an Accord in 1566 in which the Inquisition
was abolished. But this was only done to gain time by
duping the rather tactless malcontents. The following year,
1567, there appeared on the scene Alva, the most bloodthirsty
and unscrupulous villain even of his generation. He brought
with him ten thousand veteran troops to purge the Nether
lands of heretics. And now commenced the grim struggle
for existence which was to last eighty long years (1567-1647).
After various fortunes and misfortunes the seven northern
provinces, more or less deserted by the ten southern provinces,
leagued themselves together by the Union of Utrecht, in
1579, to defend one another " with life, goods, and blood"
against the forces of the King of Spain, and they decreed,
at the same time, that " every citizen shall remain free in his
religion, and that no man shall be molested or questioned
on the subject of divine worship." The united provinces
managed to hold their own under the leadership of " Father

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xv

William," the silent but sleepless guardian of his country s
fortunes. Commerce also soon revived, for Dutch sailors
were more than a match for the Spaniards, whom the
English also helped to cripple, notably by the destruction
of the great Armada in 1588,

The Netherland revolt against Spain and the Inquisition
was, we may be sure, followed with keen interest by the
Spanish and Portuguese Maranos, who had their relatives
and agents in all the European centres of commerce. The
decree of toleration included in the Union of Utrecht
seemed to hold out some promise to them ; and the lot of
the Maranos was not likely to improve (indeed their needs
only became more urgent) when Portugal was conquered
by Spain in 1579. About the year 1591 there arrived in
Amsterdam a new consul from the King of Morocco. The
consul s name was Samuel Pallache, and he was a Jew. He
commenced negotiations with the magistrates of Middelburg,
in Zeeland, for the settlement of Portuguese Maranos there.
The religious temper of the clergy made the negotiations
fruitless. But the Portuguese Maranos were in such straits
that some of them resolved to seek refuge in Holland without
any preliminary arrangements, relying simply on the natural
sympathy of the Dutch with all fellow-victims of Philip and
the Inquisition. Accordingly, in 1593 there arrived in Amster
dam the first batch of Marano fugitives. They had sailed
from Oporto, and had had an adventurous voyage. They
were captured by English buccaneers and taken to London.
They owed their release chiefly to the bewitching beauty of
one of their number, the fair Maria Nunes, who had an
audience of Queen Elizabeth, and actually drove with her
in an open carriage through the streets of London. An
English Duke offered her his hand, but the beautiful Marano
declined the honour, being determined to return to the
religion of her ancestors. Such was the spirit of these
fugitive Maranos who settled in Amsterdam, and secretly
returned to Judaism. The secret leaked out in 1596. They

xvi INTRODUCTION

were celebrating the Day of Atonement, at the house of the
above-mentioned Pallache, when their mysterious gathering
aroused the suspicion of neighbours. Armed men thereupon
arrived on the scene, and arrested the surprised worshippers
who were suspected of being Papists. But when it was ex
plained that they had fled from the Inquisition, that they had
brought considerable wealth with them, and would do their
utmost to promote the commercial prosperity of Amsterdam,
they were set free and left in peace. Two years later, in 1598,
they were allowed to acquire their first place of worship,
though it was not till 1619 that formal permission was given
to the Jews to hold public worship, nor were they recognised
as citizens till 1657. At all events the first Jews settled in
Amsterdam in 1593, and others soon followed from Spain,
Portugal, France and elsewhere. What interests us here
is that among these early arrivals were Abraham Michael
d Espinoza and his son Michael, who was to be the father
of our philosopher, Benedict Spinoza.

2. THE HOME OF SPINOZA

The name Spinoza (also written variously as Espinosa,
d Espinoza, Despinoza, and De Spinoza) was most probably
derived from Espinosa, a town in Leon. The Spinozas
lived originally in Spain. During the persecutions there
some of them seem to have outwardly embraced Chris
tianity. (As late as 1721 eight descendants of theirs,
living in or near Granada, were condemned to life-long
imprisonment as Judaising heretics.) Some fled to Portugal,
others to France, but they met again in Amsterdam as soon
as it became known that Jews were tolerated there. Bene
dict s grandfather is twice described in the Synagogue
archives as Abraham Espinosa of Nantes, from which it

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xvii

would appear that he lived there some time. On the other
hand ; it seems that Michael (his son, and the father of
Benedict) stayed at one time in Figueras, near Coimbra,
and that his third wife hailed from Lisbon. And as tradi
tion unanimously describes Spinoza as of Portuguese
descent, it seems reasonable to suppose that his father and
grandfather came from Spain or Portugal, and that their
stay in France was only brief.

Very little is known of Spinoza s father and grandfather.
They were merchants, and were evidently held in high
esteem. For, already in 1622, we find Abraham Espinosa
filling an important honorary office in the Amsterdam
Jewish community, of which he seems to have been the
recognised head in 1628. His son, Michael Espinosa, held
office even more frequently. He was Warden of his
Synagogue in 1633, 1637-8, 1642-3, and again in 1649-50,
when he was also one of the Wardens of the Amsterdam
Jewish School, and presided over the charity for granting
loans without interest. If not rich, he was probably well-
to-do. In 1641, it is true, we still find him living in the
Vloyenburgh, but this was probably not at that time the
poor quarter which it became subsequently. Soon after
wards, however, he moved into the Houtgragt (now the
Waterlooplein), and the house in which he lived the closing
years of his life looks substantial even now. It is num
bered 41, and can also be identified by a stone tablet (placed
there in 1743) which bears the inscription " t Oprechte
Tapijthuis " (the upright tapestry house). But, whatever
his worldly fortune may have been, Michael had more than
his share of domestic sorrow. His first wife died in 1627.
His second wife, Hannah Deborah, the mother of Benedict,
died in 1638. He married again in 1641 ; but his third wife,
a Lisbon lady, also predeceased him in 1652. The year
before, in 1651, his daughter, Miriam, died at the age of 22,
and but a little more than a year after her marriage to

xviii INTRODUCTION

Samuel de Casseres. Michael had also lost three other chil
dren, and only two of his six children, namely, Benedict
and a daughter, Rebekah (born of the first marriage),
survived him when he died shortly afterwards, in 1654.

The childhood of Spinoza was no doubt happy enough.
Until he was five he would be entirely under his mother s
care, as was the Jewish custom. Then his school-life would
begin, with its quaint introductory ceremonial. The cere
mony connected with the little boy s entrance into school-
life was probably one of the last, and happiest, of the poor
mother s experiences. It was performed partly in school
and partly in the Synagogue, of which his father was Warden
at the time. According to traditional custom, three cakes
of fine flour and honey were baked for the boy by a young
maiden, and fruit was provided in profusion. One of his
father s learned friends would carry him in his arms
to the Synagogue, where he would be placed on the
reading-dais while the Ten Commandments were read
from the Scroll of the Law. Then he would be taken
to school to receive his first lesson in Hebrew. Some
simple Hebrew verses would be smeared on a slate with
honey, and little Baruch would repeat the Hebrew letters,
and eat the honey and other dainty things, so that the
words of the Law might be sweet to his lips. And then
into his mother s arms !

Unfortunately his mother died when Baruch was barely
six years old, and, for the next three years or so, he was left
to the care of his stepsister, Rebekah, who may not have
been more than twelve years of age herself. To judge by
subsequent events, there was probably not much love lost
between Rebekah and Baruch. For, when their father
died in 1654, she did her utmost to prevent Benedict from
receiving his share of the inheritance, and he went to law,
though he let her keep nearly everything after he had
won the lawsuit. At his death also her conduct was not

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xix

exemplary ; she hastened to the Hague to claim her inherit
ance, but made off again as soon as she learned that the
property left was hardly enough to cover his debts and
funeral expenses. All this, however, belonged as yet to the
future. In the meantime one may well imagine the pathetic
picture of the child standing by his mother s grave and lisping
the mourner s prayer in Hebrew, which he had but just com
menced to learn. For nearly a whole year afterwards he might
be seen twice or three times each day in the neighbouring
Synagogue, reciting aloud that same mourner s prayer, with a
mysterious feeling of awe and solemnity, yet glad withal to
be doing something for his poor mother. Each anniversary
of her death would be commemorated by a special light that
was kept burning at home for twenty-four hours in memory
of a light that had failed, but was believed to be still shed
ding its rays in another sphere. And the solemn days of
the Jewish calendar were only made more solemn for him
by tender memories of " the touch of a vanished hand, and
the sound of a voice that was still."

We must not, however, exaggerate the sad side of young
Spinoza s life though it certainly had its sad side. When
he was in his ninth year he received a stepmother. Being
but a recent Marano refugee from Lisbon she may not
have been exactly the kind of woman to inspire young
Spinoza with any specially warm attachment to Judaism.
Like so many Maranos she may have been half Catholic in
her training, from the necessity of outward conformity to
Roman Catholicism. Still, she was probably kind to the
children, and the home would resume its normal tone. The
Jewish calendar, moreover, has its joyous Festivals, even its
frivolous carnival ; and a good Jew like Michael Espinosa
was not likely to neglect his religious duty to be and to
make merry on these occasions. First, there was the
weekly Sabbath and Sabbath eve (Friday evening) so often
and so justly celebrated in verse even by Heine, in his

xx INTRODUCTION

Princess Sabbath. The spirit in which it was celebrated is
perhaps best expressed in the following verses from one of
the later Sabbath hymns :

" Thou beautiful Sabbath, thou sanctified day,
That chasest our cares and our sorrows away,
O come with good fortune, with joy and with peace
To the homes of thy pious, their bliss to increase !

" In honour of thee are the tables decked white ;
From the clear candelabra shines many a light ;
All men in the finest of garments are dressed,
As far as his purse each hath got him the best.

" For as soon as the Sabbath-hat is put on the head,
New feelings are born and old feelings are dead ;
Yea, suddenly vanish black care and grim sorrow,
None troubles concerning the things of to-morrow.

" New heavenly powers are given to each ;
Of everyday matters now hushed is all speech ;
At rest are all hands that have toiled with much pain ;
Now peace and tranquillity everywhere reign." *

Then there were the three Pilgrim Festivals, Passover,
Pentecost, and Tabernacles, all of them essentially joyous
in character. On the first two evenings of Passover espe
cially, children play an important role. One can easily
imagine the important air with which little Baruch opened
the domestic celebrations on these occasions by asking the
meaning of such strange dishes as bitter herbs, a yellow-
looking mixture of almonds, cinnamon and apples, &c. By
way of answer his father would then relate to the assembled
household the old, yet ever new story of the bitter lives
which the Israelites had lived in Egypt, of the bricks and
mortar with which they had to build Pithom and Ramses
under cruel taskmasters, until God delivered them from

* Translated by I. Myers (see I. Abrahams : Jewish Life in the Middle
Ages, p. 136).

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxi

their oppressors. And the familiar story of ancient Egypt
and its tyrants would soon lead up to the more recent
barbarities in Spain and Portugal. Possibly, nay most
probably, there were strangers, guests at table for hospi
tality had become, not a luxury, but a necessity among the
wandering Jews. Perhaps some recent arrival, fresh from
the hell-fires of the Inquisition, would relate the latest story
of martyrdom. On such an occasion it may have been that
Spinoza heard of the martyrdom of " a certain Judah, called
the Faithful, who in the midst of the flames, and when he
was already believed to be dead, commenced to chant the
psalm To thee, God, I commit my Soul, and died singing
it."* But the ground-notes of the Passover evening cele
brations were those of courage, and faith that the Guardian
of Israel neither slumbered nor slept.

There were also other celebrations of Israel s deliverance
in the past. There was the Feast of Lights, or of the Re-
dedication of the Temple (Chanukah) in memory of the
brave Maccabees. A whole week was more or less spent as
a half-holiday, and given to games and merriment. The
spirit of the holiday is well expressed in a gay table-hymn
composed by Ibn Ezra, the poet and commentator of whom
Spinoza thought so highly. The following are the opening

stanzas :

" Eat dainty foods and fine,

And bread baked well and white,
With pigeons, and red wine,

On this Sabbath Chanukah night.

CHORUS.
" Your chattels and your lands

Go and pledge, go and sell !
Put money in your hands,
To feast Chanukah well ! " f

* Epistle 76. The incident took place at Valladolid on the 25th of July
1644. -j- See I. Abrahams, op. cit. p. 135.

xxii INTRODUCTION

Then there was the Feast of Lots (Purim) in celebration
of Israel s escape from the evil designs of Haman, as told
in the Book of Esther. As the life of the Jew would be
come intolerably solemn if all his persecutors were taken
seriously, Haman was treated more like a clown than a
villain, and the half-holiday associated with his name was
celebrated as a kind of carnival, when it was deemed wrong
to be staid, and when wits were readily indulged in parody
ing even Rabbis and prayers, and had ample licence to
make fools of themselves and of others. Above all it was
the occasion for plays, Purim plays, as they were called.
At that time these were not yet set plays, but informal
buffooneries linked to the story of Ahasuerus and Haman,
or, by way of variety, turning on the story of the Sale of
Joseph, or David s encounter with Goliath, and the like.
On one such occasion Spinoza may have witnessed a play
written by one of his senior school-fellows, Moses Zacuto,
whose L Inferno Figurato (written in Hebrew) expressed the
writer s scorn of the Inquisition. The hero of the story
was Abraham, whose steadfastness against Nimrod and
legendary escape from the fiery furnace were meant to
typify the Jewish fortunes in Spain.

Lastly, mention may also be made of what may roughly
be described as a kind of Confirmation ceremony when
Spinoza completed his thirteenth year. On that Sabbath
he would chant aloud in the Synagogue a portion of the
Law, or Pentateuch, and possibly also the portion from
the Prophets appointed to be read on that day. After the
service in the Synagogue, his father would entertain all his
friends at home in honour of the occasion, and young
Baruch would, according to custom, make a speech at
table. This speech would, of course, have been carefully
prepared by him for the occasion, not without the assist
ance of his teacher ; and filial gratitude for the past and
lavish promises for the future would begin and end a more

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxiii

or less learned discourse. One would like to know what
he actually did say, and what he thought of it all after
wards !

In the meanwhile his time must have been fully occupied.
He was at school from 8 till n each morning, and from 2
till 5 in the afternoon on weekdays ; and some of the hours
when he was not at school were occupied in school prepara
tion, and also in the study of secular subjects under a
private teacher or teachers. Most probably he continued
to study at the Jewish school or academy until he was
eighteen, so as to give him an opportunity to develop that
uncommon ability of which he showed unmistakable signs
at the age of fifteen in the perplexing questions which he
asked of Rabbi Morteira. At eighteen it was high time to
think of a means of livelihood. His brother, or half-brother,
Isaac died just about that time. His father may have thought
of taking him into business. But Spinoza s tastes did not lie
in the direction of business. He preferred to seek the means
of support in some occupation that would keep him in touch
with science and scholarship. This probably determined him
to learn the art of polishing lenses, which was taken up by
many learned men of his generation. By that time he may
already have shown some of his heretical tendencies, and
these may have given rise to some little friction at home.
Possibly this was the reason why his half-sister Rebekah
and his brother-in-law de Casseres tried soon afterwards to
exclude him from his share of the property which his
father left when he died. Spinoza, however, could scarcely
have been so inconsiderate as to cause his father unneces
sary pain, and most probably he kept most of his doubts to
himself, and remained in his father s house so long as his
father lived, that is to say, till March 1654, when he was
in his twenty-second year.

xxiv INTRODUCTION

3. THE EDUCATION OF SPINOZA

The general features of Spinoza s early education it is
not difficult to delineate. The Amsterdam Jewish com
munity had their own boys school, which was founded
about 1638, and which all Jewish boys would attend as a
matter of course. The general curriculum of this school is
known from contemporary accounts. We also know the
names and characters of some of its most important
teachers in the time of Spinoza. There were seven
classes in the school. In the lowest class little boys were
taught to read their prayers in Hebrew. In the second
class they learned to read and chant the Pentateuch in
Hebrew. In the next class they were taught to translate
parts of the Pentateuch from Hebrew into Spanish (which
for a long time continued to be the mother-tongue of many
Amsterdam Jews, notwithstanding the worse than step
motherly treatment which had been meted out to them and
their fathers in Spain). Here also they commenced to
study Rashi s Hebrew Commentary on the Pentateuch a
commentary written in the eleventh century, but sober far
beyond its age. The boys in the fourth class studied the
Prophets and the Hagiographa. In the remaining higher
classes they studied Hebrew Grammar, portions of the
Talmud and of the later Hebrew Codes, the works of Ibn
Ezra, Maimonides, and others, according to the discretion
of the Rabbi who instructed and advised them. The school
hours were from 8 till 1 1 A.M. and from 2 till 5 P.M. (or earlier
during the winter months). We are explicitly informed
that during the hours that the boys were at home they would
receive private tuition in secular subjects, even in verse-
making. The school also possessed a good lending library.

Of the teachers under whose influence Spinoza must
have come during his school-days, the most important

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxv

undoubtedly were Rabbi Saul Morteira and Rabbi Manasseh
ben Israel. Saul Morteira was the senior Rabbi of Amster
dam. Born in Venice about 1596 he studied medicine
under Montalto, the Marano Court physician of Maria de
Medici. Montalto died suddenly while accompanying
Louis XIII. to Tours, in 1616, and it was the desire to
bury Montalto in a Jewish cemetery that brought Saul
Morteira to Amsterdam, where the Jews had only recently
(1614) acquired a cemetery in Ouwerkerk (also called
Ouderkerk), not very far from the city. While in
Amsterdam, Morteira accepted a call to the Rabbinate of
the older of the two Synagogues there (the House of Jacob).
A third Synagogue came into existence two years later, but in
1638 the three Synagogues were amalgamated, and Morteira
acted as the senior or presiding Rabbi till his death, in
1660. Morteira had had a taste of Court life, and was not
altogether wanting in philosophical appreciation ; but he
was essentially medieval, strait-laced, prosy, and uninspir
ing. It is related that when Spinoza was but fifteen years
old Morteira marvelled at the boy s acumen. By an irony
of fate he also presided over the court of Rabbis who issued
the ban against Spinoza in 1656.

In Manasseh ben Israel we have a different type of
character altogether. He was born in 1604, and had a
tragic infancy. His father, Joseph ben Israel, was one of a
hundred and fifty Jews whom the Inquisition in Lisbon was
about to consign to the flames, in 1605, when Mammon was
successfully enlisted against the priests of Moloch. A
million gold florins, eight hundred thousand ducats, and
five hundred thousand crusados were paid to King Philip III.,
a hundred thousand crusados to the saintly ecclesiastics,
and they became reconciled to spare their victims the
flames of hell on earth even if it should entail their loss of
heaven hereafter. At the auto-da-fe in January 1605 the
unhappy Jews were paraded in penitential garb and

xxvi INTRODUCTION

made a formal confession of their secret and most sinful
loyalty to the religion of Jesus and of the Prophets. The
King graciously obtained papal absolution for their heinous
crime, and they were dismissed alive, it is true, but wrecked
in health by torture, and robbed of their possessions by
Catholic king and holy priests. Joseph ben Israel naturally
fled, at the very first opportunity, with his wife and their
infant son Manasseh. They went to Amsterdam, where
Manasseh lived nearly all his life. He succeeded his teacher,
Rabbi Uzziel, as Rabbi of the second Amsterdam Synagogue
(the Habitation of Peace) in 1622, when he was barely
eighteen years old ; started a Hebrew printing-house about
the year 1627 ; and in 1640 he was about to emigrate to
Brazil when he received an important appointment in the
senior department of the Amsterdam Jewish School, where
Spinoza must have come under his influence. Manasseh
was not a great thinker, but he was a great reader, and
made up in breadth of outlook for what he lacked in depth
of insight. Like so many contemporary theologians he was
inclined towards mysticism, it is true, but there was a touch
of romance in his character, and, urged by an irresistible
yearning to help his suffering brethren, his very mysticism
with all its puerilities played a useful part : it prompted
him to schemes which may indeed appear quixotic, which
certainly brought his life to an untimely end, but which
bore fruit nevertheless, and were well adapted to bear fruit
in an age in which religion and superstition, the flame and
the smoke, were so curiously intermingled. What he con
ceived to be the mission of his life is indicated in the
Biblical verse with which he headed the dedication of
his Hope of Israel (1650). The book, it is interesting to
observe, was dedicated to Spinoza s father and the other
Wardens of the Jewish school. At the head of the dedica
tion is the first verse from Isaiah xli. : To preach good tidings
unto the meek ; he hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxvii

In 1655 Manasseh came to England on a special mission
to Oliver Cromwell for the readmission of the Jews into
England. Two years later he returned to the Netherlands,
carrying with him the corpse of his eldest son. His great
schemes seemed shattered. Poor, prematurely aged, and
full of sorrows he died, at Middelburg, in 1657.

Manasseh ben Israel was a prolific writer, and his books
show undeniable evidence of very wide reading and extra
ordinary industry. He cites not only Jewish writers like
Ibn Gabriol and Maimonides, but also Euripides and Virgil,
Plato and Aristotle, Duns Scotus and Albertus Magnus.
Poets and legalists, mystics and rationalists he had an
appreciation for all, if not always a very intelligent apprecia
tion. And he rather prided himself on his secular know
ledge, and felt flattered when he was described, not simply
as a " theologian," but also as a " philosopher " and " Doctor
of Physics." On a portrait engraved in 1642 he is described
as "Theologicus et Philosophus Hebraeus." * Moreover
he had numerous Christian acquaintances and friends, and
corresponded with learned men and women in all parts of
Europe even with Queen Christina of Sweden, and Hugo
Grotius, the famous statesman, jurist and historian. In
various letters to Vossius, Grotius expressed his great and
sincere esteem of Manasseh. Gerhard Vossius, " the greatest
polyhistor of the Netherlands," was on intimate terms with
Manasseh, and visited him often. Nor was Manasseh at all
intolerant. He was very friendly with Caspar Barlaeus, the
Amsterdam Professor of Philosophy and Rhetoric, who
was rather suspected of being a free-thinker. Barlaeus was
a noted Latin scholar and poet, and prefixed to one of
Manasseh s books (De Creatione) a Latin poem which was

* Over this portrait, it is interesting to note, are also the words Peregri-
nandoiQuterimus, which formed the motto or trade-mark of Manasseh s
press ; in the top left corner there is a small shield with a picture of a
pilgrim carrying a staff and lamp, while in the right corner are the Hebrew
words for Thy word is a lamp unto my feet (Psalm cxix. 105).

xxviii INTRODUCTION

scarcely orthodox. We also hear of Manasseh s presence
at a merry gathering in the house of Episcopius in honour
of Sobierre, a noted French wit. On occasion, Manasseh
would also introduce some of his Jewish friends to his
Christian acquaintances. In one of his letters to a Professor
at Leyden, Vossius mentions that Manasseh had just paid
him a visit, and brought with him a Portuguese Jew, whom
he desired to recommend for the medical degree. It
does not seem unreasonable to suppose that Manasseh ben
Israel exercised a potent personal influence over Spinoza,
who must have studied under him for a number of years.
Not that Manasseh was competent to make any direct
contribution towards the development of Spinoza s philo
sophy. But his indirect influence must have been consider
able. After all, the greatest service which even the best
teacher can render does not consist so much in the actual
information which he imparts as in the stimulus which he
gives, and the love of truth which he inculcates. And
Manasseh, we have seen, was a man of wide culture, of
broad sympathy, and really devoted to scholarship. What
is more likely than that he should use his influence with
Spinoza s father so that Baruch might be taught Latin and
other secular subjects ? And what is more natural than
that Manasseh, who encouraged and helped his young
Christian friend, a son of Gerhard Vossius, to study and
translate Maimonides, should have been even more eager to
urge his Jewish students to study their own Hispano-Jewish
literature, of which they were justly so proud ?

At the house of his Rabbi, Spinoza would occasionally
meet Christians who were interested in Judaism, or in
the Jewish interpretation of the Old Testament. Here also
he may have met Rembrandt, who, between 1640 and 1656,
lived in the very heart of the Jewish quarter and was prob
ably on friendly terms with " The Amsterdam Rabbi," as
Manasseh was called. For Rembrandt etched a portrait of

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxix

Manasseh in 1636, and illustrated one of his books (ihePiedra
Gloriosa, published in 1655). Moreover, in the Hermitage
at St. Petersburg, there is a Rembrandt painting of a Rabbi,
aged and worn, and believed to be Rabbi Manasseh ben
Israel. If so, we must suppose that Rembrandt, hearing of
the return and illness of his old friend of twenty years or
more, hastened to him to Middelburg, and, deeply impressed
by the tragic change which had come over the once hand
some but now prematurely aged and broken-down Rabbi,
embodied his impression in that portrait. Perhaps it was
the art of Rembrandt which stimulated young Spinoza to
try his hand at drawing. For we are told that Spinoza was
an amateur draughtsman, and his early biographer, Colerus,
actually possessed a number of ink and charcoal sketches
which Spinoza had made of his friends, also one of Spinoza
himself in the costume of Mas Anjellos * (Thomas Aniellos),
who in 1647 led the Neapolitan revolt against Spain, and
was murdered soon afterwards. In any case, it is known
that Spinoza had a number of Christian acquaintances and
friends at a very early stage in his career, and that he helped
some of them in the study of the Hebrew Bible, and it is
not improbable that he was first introduced to some of
them by Manasseh ben Israel, the courteous and easily
accessible Rabbi, whom they at first consulted when they
took up the study of Hebrew. And it is probably more
than a mere accident that Spinoza knew and corresponded
with Isaac, the son of Gerhard Vossius, and possessed copies
of some of the works of both, as also of Grotius, and even
of Delmedigo, all of them friends of Manasseh, whose own
book, The Hope of Israel, Spinoza also possessed.

Last, though by no means least, there was the moral
earnestness of Manasseh. He was an earnest disciple of
an earnest master. His teacher and predecessor in office,
Rabbi Uzziel, was known for his moral courage. It was
^* ." A fishrman~in his shirt with a net over his right shoulder " (Colerus).

xxx INTRODUCTION

his outspoken condemnation of the moral laxity of a portion
of Amsterdam Jewry that led to a schism in the young
community, and the formation of a third congregation in
1618. For reasons already explained, some of the members
of the community had been Roman Catholics for several
generations, and had grown dangerously accustomed to the
habit of obtaining priestly absolution for moral delin
quencies. Rabbi Uzziel would have none of it. Like the
prophets of old he would make no truce with immorality,
and denounced it without respect of person. Manasseh ben
Israel also had the reputation of being an earnest and
eloquent preacher, and probably passed on some of his
master s moral earnestness to his pupil Spinoza. No doubt
young Spinoza could and did draw from the wells of the
living waters ; no doubt he could and did draw moral
inspiration from the prophetic books themselves. Still, a
living example of their moral tone could not fail to intensify
his susceptibility to that spirit of the prophets which
Spinoza s own writings still breathe.*

The school curriculum, though fairly encyclopaedic in range
of subjects, was all in Hebrew. Other languages and the
more modern sciences, or the more modern treatmentof them,
had to be studied outside the school. Spanish and Portu
guese he learned from his parents ; Dutch, from his envi
ronment. Morteira, who was a Venetian by birth, may have
taught him some Italian ; and Manasseh ben Israel, some
French. Latin, we are informed, he learned from a German
scholar, possibly a certain Jeremiah Felbinger, a man of
rather unorthodox reputation, who may also have taught
him German. The study of Latin was not popular among
the Jews at that time. It was too intimately associated with
Roman Catholicism and the Inquisition. In fact it was usual

* For fuller information about Manasseh ben Israel, see Kayserling s essay
i n the Miscellany of Hebrew Literature (second series), and L. Wolf s Manasseh
ben Israel s Mission to Oliver Cromwell.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxxi

among the Jews to speak of Latin as " the priests language."
Hence the knowledge of Latin was not a common accom
plishment of Jews then. A certain Mochinger, writing to
Manasseh ben Israel in 1632, complained that in Bohemia
and Germany he had not come across any Jew who had
learnt even the rudiments of Latin ; and he goe^ on to en
courage Manasseh to persevere with his Latin and to teach it
also to others. Even in Amsterdam, where, as the s ime writer
states, there were a number of Jews who knew Latin well, it
was regarded with misgiving as the medium of a worldly
wisdom, which, like the " Greek wisdom " of old, was sus
pected, not without reason, of leading to an estrangement
from Judaism. And Spinoza s schoolfellow, Moses Zacuto,
to whom reference has already been made above, and who
began as a poet and ended as a mystic, actually fasted for
forty days by way of penance for his early devotion to Latin.
If, therefore, Spinoza studied Latin, it may be taken for
granted that he also pursued other secular studies, especially
mathematics (which he is reported to have studied under
an Italian), and physics, both of which he soon required for
optical work, and which may actually have disposed him to
learn the art of polishing lenses ; probably also the later
scholastic philosophy as expounded about that time, in the
works of Burgersdijck, Professor of Philosophy at Leyden
(died 1632), and by his successor, Heereboord (died 1659).
In 1652 Francis van den Enden, an ex-Jesuit, ex-diplomat,
ex-bookseller, doctor, and classicist, opened a school in
Amsterdam, and Spinoza went there to complete his secular
studies. Van den Enden was certainly unorthodox, and
was strongly suspected of atheism. Colerus relates that
some of the past students of Van den Enden " blessed every
day the memory of their parents, who took care in due time
to remove them from the school of so pernicious and impious
a master." But he was admittedly an able teacher, and
Spinoza, no doubt, owed to him his mastery of Latin, also

xxxii INTRODUCTION

what little knowledge he had of Greek, the advancement of
his medical and physical knowledge, and most probably also
his first introduction to the philosophy of Descartes, whose
recent death, in 1650, must have attracted renewed attention
to his writings. Van den Enden, as we shall see, was also
kind to Spinoza in other ways, and certainly deserved some
thing better than the tragic fate which befell him.

In March 1654 Spinoza s father died. Spinoza had now
to provide for his own maintenance. His "schooling" was
finished. A new period commenced for him.

4. SPINOZA S ALIENATION FROM THE
SYNAGOGUE 1654-1656

Spinoza had an inborn passion for clear and consistent
thinking. And the great intellectual gifts with which
fortune had unstintingly endowed him were abundantly
exercised and sharpened in the prolonged study of the
Hebrew legal and religious codes. These abound in subtle
problems and subtler solutions. And whatever Spinoza
may have subsequently thought of their intrinsic merits, yet
their value as a mental discipline was undeniable. But this
power of penetration was slowly but inevitably bringing him
into antagonism with the very sources from which it had
drawn strength. Moreover, even quite apart from this
sharpening of his reasoning powers, his Hebrew studies
provided him also with ample material and stimulus for the
exercise of his critical acumen. The spirit of rationalism
pervades the whole literature of the Jews of the Spanish
period,* and the masterpieces of that literature were the pride
of the Jewish refugees from the Peninsula, indeed, of all
Jews. In the commentary of Abraham Ibn Ezra (1092-1 167)
he found many bold and suggestive hints. In the Preface,
^* See tht writer s Aristotle in Medieval Jewish Thought.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxxiii

Ibn Ezra states that he " will show no partiality in the exposi
tion of the Law/ and although the promise seems bolder
than the fulfilment, yet now and again one meets with " a
word to the wise " which is just sufficient to direct attention
to some inconsistency in Scripture, to the post-Mosaic
authorship of certain passages in the so-called Five Books
of Moses, or to the different authorship of the first and of
the second parts of Isaiah. These hints, obscure as they
may seem, justify Ibn Ezra s claim to be called "the father
of the Higher Criticism of the Bible/ and they certainly led
to Spinoza s subsequent important contributions to this
kind of Biblical criticism. In the Guide of the Perplexed
of Moses Maimonides (1135-1204) his attention was drawn
to certain crudities and inconsistencies in Biblical theology,
which Maimonides, indeed, tried to explain away, or to
reconcile with the requirements of reason, though apparently,
in the judgment of Spinoza, with little success. And Mai
monides treatment of the institution of sacrifices as merely
a temporary concession or device to wean Israel from idola
try could not but suggest to Spinoza that other religious
customs, too, were only temporary in character and validity.
In the writings of Gersonides (1288-1344) he saw rationalism
encroaching on miracles and on prophecy, so as to explain
away their supposed supernatural character. Maimonides
had already boldly asserted that any passage in the Bible
which appeared to conflict with reason must be so re
interpreted as to be in harmony with it. This method of
"interpreting" Scripture into conformity with reason still
seemed to save the priority of the Bible over human reason
though only in appearance. Gersonides went further
than that. Frankly admitting the possibility of a real
conflict between Reason and Revelation, he openly declared
that the Bible " cannot prevent us from holding that to be
true which our reason prompts us to believe." Moreover,
the tendency towards free thought was very much in the air

xxxiv INTRODUCTION

ever since the Renaissance, and it affected young Jews as it
affected others. For example, in 1628 there arrived in
Amsterdam a Jewish scholar, Joseph Delmedigo by name,
who had studied at the University of Padua. He was well
versed in philosophy, medicine, physics, and mathematics,
as well as in Hebrew literature, and he had also studied
astronomy under Galileo. He seems to have stayed several
years in Amsterdam, where Manasseh ben Israel published
a selection of his works for him. He was a remarkable
product of that age of conflict between the old and the
new. Unsettled by the new spirit of the age, yet faithful
to the old, his mind inclined now towards scepticism and
again towards mysticism, and his nomad life was at once
typical and expressive of a restless, vacillating mind seeking
in vain to regain its equilibrium. And, to judge from
contemporary complaints, Amsterdam Jewry had not a few
of such religious malcontents, and the leaders had to cope
with the trouble as best they could. Already in 1623
Samuel da Silva, a Jewish physician at Amsterdam, was
called upon to write a defence of the immortality of the
soul, and the inspiration of the Bible, against the sceptical
views aired by Uriel da Costa. In 1632 Manasseh ben
Israel published the first part of his Conciliatory wherein he
sought to reconcile the apparent inconsistencies of Scrip
ture. The Marano refugees, like others who threw off the
yoke of Roman Catholicism, turned back to the Bible, and
the difficulties which some of them encountered there may
have been one of the causes which prompted Manasseh s
enterprise. Spinoza, no doubt, knew this book. But he
probably appreciated the problems which it attacked much
more than the solutions which it offered. And if the Bible
already presented difficulties, how extravagant and un
warranted must have appeared that elaborate superstructure
which the Rabbis had reared upon it " line upon line and
precept upon precept " ! At all events, Spinoza s difficul-

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxxv

ties, in so far as they turned on the narrower problems of
the Hebrew Scriptures and Jewish ceremonial, were by no
means new. They had been clearly realised, and partly
dealt with, by others long before him.

As regards the wider philosophical questions, it is difficult
to say what Spinoza s philosophy was like at that epoch
of his life. One can scarcely suppose that his thought
was already systematised into a definite philosophic theory.
Most likely his views were as yet but loosely connected, and,
in the main, negative rather than positive in tendency. And
these views also were, in very large measure, if not exclu
sively, suggested to him by Jewish writers. These more
philosophical problems, too, were not altogether new, they
had been realised, and grappled with, by other Jews before
him. The popular conception of Creation (creatio ex nihilo)
had been denied by both Ibn Ezra and Gersonides, who
maintained the eternity of matter. Crescas (1340-1410) had
maintained that God had extension, and the Jewish Mystics
taught that Nature was animated. Maimonides had denied
that man was the centre of creation, maintaining that each
thing exists for its own sake, and Crescas denied the validity
of final causes. Maimonides also had suggested the rela
tivity of good and evil, and Ibn Ezra and Crescas had
maintained a thoroughgoing determinism.

Spinoza, however, felt the accumulated burden of all
these problems, and he may already have been sufficiently
influenced by Cartesian thought to refuse to accept any
unproved assertions. Moreover, Spinoza lacked the power
(one is almost inclined to call it a gift) which his Jewish
predecessors possessed, namely, the power of detaching
their theories from their practical everyday life. However
advanced or heterodox their views may have been, yet they
were conservative in feeling, and conservative in practice,
and observed religious customs just like the most orthodox.
Such an attitude may easily be accused of duplicity ; but

xxxvi INTRODUCTION

we do not really explain it by calling it bad names. It is
often perfectly honest, and it is to be met with in all creeds,
at the present no less than in the past. And, after all, the
difference is mostly one of degree rather than of kind.
Even Spinoza s feeling remained to the end more conserva
tive than his thought. That was why he could not help
using the language of religion long after his thought seemed
to have emptied it of its religious meaning. At all events he
made no secret of his views, and he grew lax in the matter
of ceremonial observances, whose theoretic basis no longer
appealed to him. The elaborate dietary laws of orthodox
Judaism must havebeen something of an obstacle in his inter
course with Christian friends, and although he, no doubt,
observed these laws for a time from sheer force of habit, even
when their raison d etrehad already lost its hold on him, still
he probably got weary of excusing his apparent unsociability
on the ground of a custom in which he no longer believed.
Moreover, the comparatively liberal religion of his Mennonite
and Collegiant * friends, their Quaker-like simplicity, their
brotherly equality, their humanitarian repudiation of strife
and war, the plain decorum of their prayer-meetings all
this must have tended to make him increasingly dissatisfied
with the over-elaborated ceremonial of his own community,
and the comparative indecorum of their Synagogue services.
On the other hand, his Jewish neighbours were beginning
to feel scandalised by this breach of ritual observances, his
frequent absence from the Synagogue, and the reports of
his attendance at Christian prayer-meetings, especially so,
considering that his father and grandfather had held office
in the Synagogue, and Baruch himself had been looked upon
as a promising " light of the Exile." Mutual distrust de
veloped into mutual antipathy. The conservatives could not
understand how any one could, merely on account of per
sonal inconvenience, deliberately ignore divinely ordained

[ . * See p. xli on the character of these sects.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxxvii

precepts except from sheer perverseness. They failed to
realise that any one who did not accept the divine origin of
such customs, and did not see any very obvious moral pur
pose in them, would simply not think it worth while sacri
ficing time or anything else on their account. And Spinoza
himself was almost equally unsympathetic when he failed to
realise that customs which seemed a burden to him were
nevertheless felt to be a blessing and a privilege by those
who sincerely regarded them as divine ordinances, as oppor
tunities of serving God ; while the apparent indecorum of
the Synagogue was largely the outcome of Israel s feeling
of familiarity with God. Such mutual misunderstandings
neither began nor ended in the days of Spinoza. At
all events trouble was brewing. After his father s death
Spinoza probably became less cautious than before. He
did not entirely sever his connection with the Synagogue,
for the Synagogue accounts show that he was present in
the Synagogue on the Sabbath, the 5th of December 1655,
and made an offering. It was the Sabbath of the Feast
of Lights, in memory of the Maccabean uprising against
Antiochus Epiphanes, and Spinoza had a warm admiration
for all enemies of tyranny did he not actually picture him
self in the guise of Aniellos, the Neapolitan rebel against
the tyranny of Spain ? That Spinoza should have kept up
his connection with the Synagogue stands to reason. He
could hardly resist the call of filial piety to recite the
mourner s prayer for his father, even as, in the days of his
childhood, he had done for his mother. The prayer was
innocent enough. Though a " mourner s prayer," it was not
a prayer for the dead, in fact it contained no reference what
ever to the dead. It was a prayer for peace, and its ground-
note was that of praise of God, which, coming at the moment
of profoundest sorrow, was regarded as the finest expres
sion of resignation and faith. Spinoza could scarcely have
taken any serious objection to it, at that time, and on such

xxxviii INTRODUCTION

an occasion, and he would thus remain attached to the
Synagogue during his year of mourning. In the months of
September, October, and November fell the anniversaries
of the deaths of his sister Miriam, his stepmother, and his
mother respectively. He would be expected to attend
Synagogue on these occasions, and hardly be disinclined.
We need not, therefore, be surprised to find him again in
the Synagogue on the 5th of December. In all probability
that was not the last occasion either on which he was seen
in Synagogue the anniversary of his father s death, in
March 1656, most likely saw him there again. What
exactly happened in the interval between March and July
1656 is not certain, though it may not be difficult to con
jecture. Possibly some of his young Jewish friends spoke
to him on the subject of death a subject natural enough
under the circumstances and may have been surprised and
shocked to hear from him that in his view the Bible did not
teach the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, and that,
in the Bible, soul" was simply synonymous with " life."
This might have led up to the more general question of the
existence of disembodied spirits or angels, which Spinoza
then described as unreal, and mere phantoms of the imagi
nation. But what about God ? would be the natural
rejoinder. God, said Spinoza, was also not incorporeal, but
extended. At all events, it was these heretical views which
were soon afterwards made the ground of his excommuni
cation ; but they were not really the whole ground there
were other reasons.

Reference has already been made to the fact that, on the
death of their father, Rebekah endeavoured to keep her
half-brother from his share in the inheritance. Her idea
no doubt was that Spinoza might earn his livelihood,
whereas she had nothing wherewith to support herself, and
ought therefore to be provided for. Possibly her brother-
in-law, de Casseres, a prospective Rabbi, learned in the

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xxxix

Law, and uncommonly shocked by Spinoza s religious
lapses, of which Rebekah probably knew much and told
him more, advised her that according to strict Jewish law
Spinoza s delinquencies disqualified him from inheriting
his father s property. Spinoza naturally resented such
high-handed methods, and appealed to the law of the land,
which of course took no notice of the subtleties of Rabbinic
legislation. Spinoza won his lawsuit, but, realising the
moral claims of his sister s position, he refrained from
taking anything beyond a bedstead, and that very likely as
a memento quite as much as an article of value, or of which
he had need. This appeal to the secular arm against his sister
hardly tended to make him more popular with his people,
however little some of them may have sympathised with
her peculiar methods. Moreover, the report of his heresies,
on which Rebekah had based her exclusive claims, got abroad
and was duly magnified as it passed from mouth to mouth.
Meanwhile Spinoza had to earn his bread. He could
hardly think of staying with his sister, or with any other
relative, after this family quarrel, and he had nothing very
definite to fall back upon for his support. Fortunately Van
den Enden, realising his pupil s plight, came to his rescue.
Spinoza assisted him in his school, and, in return, Van den
Enden provided him with a home and all necessaries at
his own house. This, of course, entailed a complete breach
with the Jewish dietary laws. But this was not all. Van
den Enden, as already remarked, had an evil reputation,
and his school was strongly suspected of being a centre for
the teaching of atheism. Whether Van den Enden really
merited his ill repute is by no means certain. That he was
not particularly orthodox in his views may be granted ; he
knew too much to satisfy the requirements of the zealots.
On the other hand, it must be remembered that when
Dirck Kerckrinck wooed Clara Maria Van den Enden, he
had to turn Roman Catholic before her father consented to

xl INTRODUCTION

the marriage (1671). Be that as it may, the school had a
bad name, and Spinoza s reputation did not improve by his
more intimate connection with it. Possibly some of the
fathers, who subsequently earned the daily blessings of their
sons for taking care in due time " to remove them from the
school of so pernicious and impious a master" as Van den
Enden was reputed to be, were not slow in fastening some
of the blame on his Jewish assistant ; and Spinoza, who was
as yet too inexperienced to appreciate the wisdom of dis
cretion, may have given utterance to many a heterodox
thought. If so, the scandalised fathers who repeatedly tried
to persuade the city magistrates to close Van den Enden s
school, and who actually did succeed in driving him out of
Amsterdam eventually, would not keep very quiet about
Spinoza, and the Jewish authorities would have good reason
to take alarm.

Except by the select few, religious toleration was scarcely
understood in those days, even in the Netherlands. That
the persecuted turn persecutors has become a truism ; it is
sad, but it is true. In practice, the cry for religious tolera
tion has all too often amounted to this : you have persecuted
me long enough now, let me persecute you for a change.
At the very commencement of their long struggle against
the tyranny of the Inquisition, the mutual intolerance of the
various religious sects in the Netherlands caused infinite
trouble to William the Silent, and very nearly wrecked their
enterprise. As their fortunes improved and the need of
union became somewhat less urgent, intolerance became
increasingly manifest. The Calvinists, who were in the
majority, regarded their Church more or less as the estab
lished Church, to which the Reformed clergy tried their
utmost to compel all others to conform. When Philip III.
made a twelve years truce with the United Netherlands in
1609, he did so, it is said, in the sinister hope that mutual
religious persecutions among the different religious sects

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xli

would bring about that fall of the Netherlands which
the Spanish troops had failed to effect. Sooth to say,
there was considerable justification for that sinister hope.
In 1610 the followers of Arminius (Professor of Theology
at Leyden, died 1609) presented to the provincial parliament
of Holland and West Friesland their Remonstrance * against
extreme Calvinism, and the struggle between the Arminians
(or Remonstrants) and the extreme Calvinists (or Contra-
Remonstrants) culminated in 1619, when the Synod of
Dordrecht excommunicated the Arminians, closed their
places of worship, and brought about the expulsion of Re
monstrant preachers from most of the States. Barneveldt,
the political head of the Remonstrants and reputed to have
been the greatest statesman of the Netherlands, was exe
cuted ; Hugo Grotius, one of their most eminent scholars,
was thrown into prison, and only escaped from it through
the bold ingenuity of his wife. One interesting result of the
banishment of Arminian pastors was the formation of the
Collegiant sect, which simply decided to dispense with
the clerical office altogether, and held more or less informal
gatherings (collegia) for prayers and religious discussions
conducted entirely by laymen. (The Mennonites, with
whom also Spinoza stood in friendly relations, had come
into existence under very similar circumstances during the
sixteenth century). The events of 1619 show clearly enough
the temper of the dominant religious sect in the United
Provinces. Fortunately, enlightened statesmen and magis
trates generally managed to resist the persecuting zeal of
the Reformed or Calvinist clergy. But not always ; nor did
the zealots relax their efforts in spite of repeated dis
couragement. In 1653 the clerical Synods forced the
States-General to issue a strict edict against the Socinians

* The "five points" of the Remonstrance were (i) conditional election ;
(ii) universal redemption through Christ ; (iii) salvation by grace ; (iv) the
irresistibleness of grace ; and (v) the possibility of falling from a state oi
grate.

d

xlii INTRODUCTION

or Unitarians, many of whom consequently went over to
the Collegiants.

After all, then, the decree of toleration embodied in the
Union of Utrecht did not secure very much in the way of
real toleration. Non-Calvinist Christians were allowed to
live in the Netherlands without suffering in person or pro
perty on account of their nonconformity. For those days
even that was a great deal ; but the right of public worship
was quite another matter. And if the Union of Utrecht did
not secure real toleration for all Christian sects, much less
did it guarantee anything to the Jews, who had not been
contemplated in it at all, who had not even been formally
admitted into the Netherlands, but whose presence had
been more or less connived at. Even in 1619, when the
Jewish question was definitely raised in the Netherlands, it
was decided to allow each city to please itself whether it
would permit Jews to live there or not. Their position
was precarious indeed. They had to take care not to give
offence to the religious susceptibilities of their neighbours.
And their troubles commenced soon enough.

About the year 1618 there had arrived in Amsterdam a
Marano refugee from Portugal whose name was Gabriel da
Costa. Both he and his late father had held office in the
Catholic Church, but seized by a sudden longing to return
to the religion of his ancestors, Gabriel fled to Amsterdam,
where he embraced Judaism and changed his name from
Gabriel to Uriel. His ideas about Judaism had been derived
chiefly from reading the Old Testament, and his contact
with actual Rabbinic Judaism somewhat disappointed him.
He thereupon commenced to speak contemptuously of the
Jews as Pharisees, and aired his views very freely against
the belief in the immortality of the soul, and the inspiration
of the Bible. These views were, of course, as much opposed
to Christianity as to Judaism. The Jewish physician, de
Silva, as already stated, tried to controvert these heretical

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xliii

views in a book published in 1623. Da Costa replied, in
1624, with a treatise which was very confused, and which,
while accusing de Silva of slander against the author,
actually reiterated those heresies. Partly from fear that an
outcry might be raised against the Jews as promulgators of
heresy, the Jewish authorities excommunicated Uriel da
Costa, and as a kind of official repudiation of all responsi
bility for him, they communicated the facts to the civil
authorities, who thereupon imprisoned him, fined him, and
ordered his book to be burned. Shunned by Jews and
Christians alike, da Costa found his existence very lonely
and intolerable, and in 1633 he made up his mind, as he
said, " to become an ape among apes/ and made his peace
with the Synagogue. But he soon got quite reckless again,
and was excommunicated a second time. Again he grew
weary of his isolation, and once more he approached the
Synagogue authorities for the removal of the ban. Deter
mined not to be duped again, yet reluctant to repel him
absolutely, they imposed hard conditions on him. He sub
mitted to the conditions he recanted his sins publicly in
the Synagogue, received thirty-nine lashes, and lay pros
trate on the threshold of the Synagogue while the congrega
tion stepped over him as they passed out. It was a cruel
degradation. And so heavily did his humiliation weigh on
his mind that he committed suicide soon afterwards. This
happened in 1640, and Spinoza must have remembered the
scandal.

If the Jewish community in Amsterdam felt it necessary
to repudiate, in such drastic manner, their responsibility for
Uriel da Costa s heresies, so as to avoid giving offence to
their Christian neighbours, there was every reason why they
should feel even greater discomfort on account of Spinoza s
heresies in 1656. It was a critical period in the annals of
Jewish history. During the Muscovite and Cossack inva
sion of Poland (1654-1656) entire Jewish communities were

xliv INTRODUCTION

massacred by the invaders ; nor did the Poles behave much
better towards the Jews during the war. Naturally, whoso
ever could tried to escape from the scene of slaughter.
There was consequently a considerable influx of Polish Jews
into Amsterdam. Now, even in the twentieth century, when
countless missionaries are sent to spread the Gospel from
China to Peru, Jewish refugees have been shown but scant
Christian charity under similar circumstances, so we have
every reason to suppose that the condition of the Amsterdam
Jewish community did not gain in security through this influx
of destitute refugees. Then more than ever was it necessary
to be circumspect, and avoid giving offence to the people of
the land, especially in the matter of the most delicate of all
things religion.* They did not want another scandal. One
da Costa affair was enough, and more than enough. Yet
they must not incur the responsibility for Spinoza s heresies.
So at first they tried to bribe Spinoza. They promised him
a considerable annuity if he would only keep quiet, and
show some amount of outward conformity to his religion.
They must have known well enough that silence and partial
outward conformity do not alter a man s views ; they were
surely shrewd enough to realise that a heretic does not cease
to be a heretic by becoming also a hypocrite. If their sole
object had been to suppress heresy in their midst, that was
not the way to gain their end. Heresy would not languish
through becoming profitable. The real motive that prompted
them must have been that just indicated though it is very
likely that they did not realise it so explicitly. If they had
done so, and if they had urged these points on Spinoza, he
would, undoubtedly, have appreciated the need for caution
and silence. But they evidently did not understand him,
they evidently misconceived his character entirely, and the

* That their apprehensions were not unfounded is clear from the fact
that even some twenty years afterwards various Synods of the Reformed
Church tried to induce the civil powers to pass strong measures for the
forcible ebnversion of the Jews.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xlv

attempt to gag him with a bribe was just the way best cal
culated to defeat their end. The only person who might
have understood him, and whose intervention might have
been successful, was Manasseh ben Israel. But he was in
England then, on a mission to Cromwell. So threats were
tried next ; but the threat of excommunication had no effect
on Spinoza. They had reached the end of their tether. The
only course open to them, as they felt, was to put him under
the ban. The feeling against him was, no doubt, so strong
that a fanatic might have tried to do him some physical
violence. And it may be that such an attack gave rise to the
story of an attempt to assassinate Spinoza with a dagger, as
he was leaving the Synagogue or the theatre. But there is no
evidence of this, and the probability is decidedly against it.

Some time in June 1656 Spinoza was summoned before
the court of Rabbis. Witnesses gave evidence of his here
sies. Spinoza did not deny them he tried to defend them.
Thereupon he was excommunicated for a period of thirty
days only in the hope that he might still relent. But he
did not. Accordingly, on the 2jth July 1656, the final ban was
pronounced upon him publicly in the Synagogue at Amster
dam. It was couched in the following terms :

" The members of the council do you to wit that they have long
known of the evil opinions and doings of Baruch de Espinoza, and
have tried by divers methods and promises to make him turn from
his evil ways. As they have not succeeded in effecting his improve
ment, but, on the contrary, have received every day more informa
tion about the horrible heresies which he practised and taught, and
other enormities which he has committed, and as they had many
trustworthy witnesses of this, who have deposed and testified in the
presence of the said Spinoza, and have convicted him ; and as all
this has been investigated in the presence of the Rabbis, it has been
resolved with their consent that the said Espinoza should be anathe
matised and cut off from the people of Israel, and now he is
anathematised with the following anathema :

" With the judgment of the angels and with that of the saints, with

xlvi INTRODUCTION

the consent of God, Blessed be He, and of all this holy congrega
tion, before these sacred Scrolls of the Law, and the six hundred
and thirteen precepts which are prescribed therein, we anathematise,
cut off, execrate, and curse Baruch de Espinoza with the anathema
wherewith Joshua anathematised Jericho, with the curse wherewith
Elishah cursed the youths, and with all the curses which are written
in the Law: cursed be he by day, and cursed be he by night ; cursed
be he when he lieth down, and cursed be he when he riseth up ;
cursed be he when he goeth out, and cursed be he when he cometh
in ; the Lord will not pardon him ; the wrath and fury of the Lord
will be kindled against this man, and bring down upon him all the
curses which are written in the Book of the Law; and the Lord
will destroy his name from under the heavens; and, to his undoing,
the Lord will cut him off from all the tribes of Israel, with all the
curses of the firmament which are written in the Book of the Law ;
but ye that cleave unto the Lord your God live all of you this
day!

" We ordain that no one may communicate with him verbally or in
writing, nor show him any favour, nor stay under the same roof
with him, nor be within four cubits of him, nor read anything com
posed or written by him."

This amiable document of the " holy congregation " is
nothing less than a blasphemy. It must be remembered,
however, that the actual anathema was a traditional formula,
and (unlike the preamble and conclusion) was not specially
written for the occasion. No doubt it shows a greater
familiarity with the phraseology of the Bible than with its
best teaching. But the Jews who excommunicated Spinoza
were no worse than their neighbours in this respect. These
awful curses were but the common farewells with which the
churches took leave of their insubordinate friends. Nor
were these the worst forms of leave-taking, by any means.
After all, swearing breaks no bones, and burns none alive,
as did the rack and the stake which were so common
in those days. The Catholic Church excommunicated
only when it could not torture and kill ; and then its ana
themas, though they may have been more polished in diction,

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xlvii

were incomparably more brutal in effect. The ban pronounced
upon William the Silent, for instance, contained nothing less
than an urgent invitation to cut-throats that they should
murder him, in return for which pious deed they would
receive absolution for all their crimes, no matter how heinous,
and would be raised to noble rank ; and that ban actually
accomplished its sinister object! It is, therefore, unjust to
single out this ban against Spinoza and judge it by present-
day standards. Nor should it be forgotten that if Judaism
alone had been concerned, more leniency would have been
shown, the whole thing might have been ignored. Elisha
ben Abuyah, the Faust of the Talmud, was not persecuted
by the Jews, in spite of his heresies. The ban against Spinoza
was the due paid to Caesar, rather than to the God of Israel.

As in the case of da Costa, and for the same reasons, the
Jewish authorities officially communicated the news of
Spinoza s excommunication to the civil authorities, who, in
order to appease the wrath of the Jewish Rabbinate and the
Calvinist clergy, banished Spinoza from Amsterdam, though
only for a short period.

On the whole there is some reason to suppose that the
anathema was not a curse, but a blessing in disguise. It
freed him entirely from sectarian and tribal considera
tions ; it helped to make him a thinker of no particular
sect and of no particular age, but for all men and for all
times.

However reprehensible his heretical utterances arid un
orthodox doings may have been considered by some of his
fellow-Jews, yet there can be no doubt that Spinoza did not
really desire to sever his connection entirely with them.
This is evident from the fact that he did not ignore, as he
might have done, the summons to come before the court
of Rabbis in order to defend himself against the charge of
heresy. It is true that when informed of his final excom
munication he is reported to have said : " Very well, this

xlviii INTRODUCTION

does not force me to do anything which I would not have
done of my own accord, had I not been afraid of a
scandal." But the last words of this expression of his
natural resentment only seem to confirm the suggestion
about his previous anxiety to avoid a complete rupture, if
he could do so honestly. It was partly perhaps also for this
reason that even after his excommunication he addressed
to the Synagogue authorities an Apology (written in Spanish)
in which he probably sought to defend his heretical views
by showing that they had the support of some of the most
eminent Rabbis, and to condemn the iniquity of fastening
on him " horrible practices and other enormities" because
of his neglect of mere ceremonial observances. Unfortu
nately, this document has not yet been recovered, though
some of its contents are said to have been subsequently in
corporated in his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus. It would
throw a flood of light on Spinoza s mental history. How
ever, the Apology did not mend matters. Cut off from his
community, without kith or kin, he stood alone, but firm
and unshaken. Unlike da Costa, he never winced. He
seems to have got into touch with Jews again afterwards ;
but it was they who had to seek him.

5. THE LAST YEARS OF SPINOZA S STAY IN
AND NEAR AMSTERDAM 1656-1660

Banished from Amsterdam, Spinoza went to live in Ou-
werkerk, a little village to the south of Amsterdam. Possibly
he had some Christian friends there who had influence with
the civil authorities ; and apparently he meant to return to
Amsterdam at the earliest opportunity. Maybe also he was
not altogether uninfluenced by the thought that the Jewish
cemetery was there, and that his mother, his sister, his father,

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xlix

and others once dear to him, had found their last resting-
place in it.

For his support he had to rely on the lenses which he
made an art which he had mastered during the years
immediately preceding his exile. He made lenses for spec
tacles, microscopes, and telescopes, and his friends sold
them for him. The work suited his tastes well enough, be
cause it kept him in touch with his scientific studies. And
he evidently excelled in it, for later on his fame as an
optician attracted the notice of Huygens and Leibniz,
among others. But it was an unfortunate occupation
otherwise. The fine glass-dust which he inhaled during his
work must have been very injurious to his health, especially
when we bear in mind that he eventually died of consump
tion, and that he probably inherited the disease from his
mother, who died so young. For the time being, however,
it was a congenial occupation, and, with his frugal habits,
left him sufficient time to pursue his scientific and philo
sophic studies.

As already suggested, Spinoza did not stay long in Ouwer-
kerk, but returned, after a few months, to Amsterdam, where
he remained till 1660. Of the events which happened
during this period (1656-1660) we possess the most meagre
information. Apparently he gave some private lessons in
philosophy, and pursued his studies unremittingly. At the
end of this period he had already left Descartes behind him,
and had thought out the essentials of his own philosophy.

From Spinoza s subsequent correspondence, we obtain a
glimpse of his friends and associates during this period,
while the opening pages of his Improvement of the Under
standing at once enlighten and mystify us about his life
during those last years in Amsterdam.

After leaving Amsterdam in 1660 Spinoza continued a
friendly correspondence with several residents in Amster
dam, whom he also visited for a short time in 1663. These

1 INTRODUCTION

correspondents must therefore have been known to him
during his stay in Amsterdam, and what is known about
them helps to throw some light on this obscure period in
Spinoza s life-history. They were Pieter Balling, Jarig
Jelles, Dirck Kerckrinck, Lodewijk Meyer, Simon Joosten de
Vries, and Jan Rieuwertsz.

Pieter Balling had acted for some time as the representa
tive or agent of various Spanish merchants. And it is just
possible that Spinoza s knowledge of Spanish first brought
him into touch with him. Balling was a Mennonite, and a
pronounced enemy of dogmatism. In 1662 he published a
book entitled The Light on the Candlestick, in which he
attacked religion based on stereotyped dogmas, and advo
cated a religion, partly rationalistic, partly mystical, based
on the inward light of the soul. The whole spirit of the
book might be summed up in the familiar lines of Matthew

Arnold :

" These hundred doctors try

To preach thee to their school.
We have the truth, they cry.

And yet their oracle,
Trumpet it as they will, is but the same as thine.

" Once read thy own breast right,
And thou has done with fears.
Man gets no other light,

Search he a thousand years.
Sink in thyself: there ask what ails thee, at that shrine."

In 1664 he translated into Dutch Spinoza s version of
Descartes Principia. In a letter written in the same year,
we see Spinoza trying to console Balling on the loss of his
child, and dealing tenderly with Balling s " premonitions "
of his impending loss.

Jarig Jelles was at one time a spice-merchant in Amster
dam, but feeling that " knowledge is better than choice
gold, that wisdom is better than rubies, and all the things

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA li

that may be desired are not to be compared to her/ he left
his business in the charge of a manager, and devoted him
self to study. He wrote a book to show that Cartesianism
did not lead to atheism, but was, on the contrary, quite
compatible with the Christian religion. Spinoza seems to
have helped him in the composition of this book. Jelles
was one of the friends who persuaded Spinoza to publish
his version of Descartes Principia, and even defrayed the
cost of its publication. He also took an active share in the
publication of Spinoza s posthumous works, the preface to
which is so similar in tone to the book of Jelles that he is
regarded as its author by some very competent authorities.

Dirck Kerckrinck was seven years younger than Spinoza,
whom he first met at Van den Enden s school (? 1652-6).
He studied medicine, and became the author of various
medical treatises. Colerus relates some gossip to the effect
that Spinoza and Kerckrinck were rivals for the hand of
Clara Maria, the gifted daughter of Van den Enden, and
that she accepted Kerckrinck because he was rich, while
Spinoza was poor. But as Clara Maria was born in 1644,
this very natural attempt to introduce a touch of romance
into Spinoza s life of single blessedness is an utter failure.
Clara Maria was barely sixteen when Spinoza left Amster
dam for good in 1660, and he had ceased to be her father s
pupil in 1654 or, at the latest, in 1656. As an inmate in her
father s house he may have been fond of her as a mere
child, and some expression of endearment uttered in that
sense probably gave rise to this pretty tale. It is true, how
ever, that Kerckrinck did marry her in 1671, as already
mentioned. Spinoza possessed several of the medical works
of Kerckrinck, who had, no doubt, sent them to him as an
old friend of his.

Lodewijk Meyer was a medical practitioner in Amsterdam.
He was about two years older than Spinoza, and a man of
versatile talents. He had studied not only medicine but

Hi INTRODUCTION

also philosophy and theology, made his bid as poet and
dramatist, lexicographer and stage -manager, and was the
moving spirit in a certain literary society, the name and
motto of which was (as we need scarcely be surprised to
hear) Nil volentibus arduum. It was he who wrote the
interesting preface to Spinoza s version of Descartes
Principia.

Simon Joosten de Vries was an Amsterdam merchant.
He was only about a year younger than Spinoza, though his
attitude towards Spinoza was always that of a humble
disciple. He studied medicine under the direction of
Spinoza, and his attachment to Spinoza is evident from a
letter of his written in 1663, after Spinoza had left Amster
dam. " For a long time," he writes, " I have been longing
to be with you ; but the weather and the hard winter have
not been propitious to me. Sometimes I complain of my
lot in being removed from you by a distance which separates
us so much. Happy, most happy, is your companion
Casearius, who lives with you under the same roof, and who
can converse with you on the most excellent topics during
dinner, or supper, or on your walks. But although we are so
far apart in the body, yet you have constantly been present
to my mind, especially when I take your writings in my
hand, and apply myself to them." In the same letter he
reports about a philosophical society for the study of
Spinoza s philosophy, as communicated to de Vries and
others in manuscript form, and asks for further elucidation
of some difficult points. The sincerity and extent of his
devotion was further shown by his offer of a gift of 2000
florins to Spinoza, which was, however, declined. Later on,
Simon de Vries, whose health was even less satisfactory
than Spinoza s, feeling that his end was drawing nigh,
desired to make Spinoza his heir. Again the philosopher
dissuaded him, urging the prior claims of the testator s own
kindred. On the death of Simon de Vries his brother

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA liii

offered to Spinoza an annuity of 500 florins, but Spinoza
declined to take more than 300 florins.

Jan Rieuwertsz was a bookseller at Amsterdam, and some
fifteen years older than Spinoza. He was a Collegiant,
and very liberal in his views. His shop enjoyed the evil
reputation of being the seat of scoffers. He published and
stocked the works of many authors of unorthodox repute,
including those of Descartes, Balling, Jelles, and Spinoza.
His son also was a devoted admirer of Spinoza.

Such were some of the men with whom Spinoza stood in
friendly relationship during his last years in Amsterdam.
Further details are wanting. Possibly he had given private
tuition to Simon de Vries (who speaks of him as " master "),
Balling, and others ; or he may have held some kind of
seminar or class for the informal discussion of religious and
philosophical questions. If so, the substance of his Meta
physical Thoughts (which were subsequently appended to his
version of Descartes Principia) and of his Short Treatise on
God, Man and his Well-being must have been elaborated
during these years, and for these purposes. This would also
account for the continuation or revival of similar meetings
for the discussion of Spinoza s views, as reported in the
letter of Simon de Vries.

Little as is known of these years, there can be no doubt
that they were years of storm and stress in the mental history
of Spinoza. This much may be gathered from the impres
sive pages with which he opens his Treatise on the Improve
ment of the Understanding.

" After experience had taught me [so he writes] that all things
which are ordinarily encountered in common life are vain and
futile, and when I saw that all things which occasioned me any
anxiety or fear had in themselves nothing of good or evil, except
in so far as the mind was moved by them ; I at length determined to
inquire if there were anything which was a true good capable of im
parting itself, and by which alone the mind could be affected to the

liv INTRODUCTION

exclusion of all else ; whether, indeed, anything existed by the dis
covery and acquisition of which I might have continuous and
supreme joy to all eternity, I say that / at length determined : for
at first sight it seemed unwise to be willing to let go something
certain for something that was yet uncertain. I saw, forsooth, the
advantages which are derived from honour and riches, and that I
should be obliged to abstain from the quest of these if I wished
to give serious application to something different and new : and if,
perchance, supreme happiness should lie in them, I saw clearly that
I should have to do without it ; but if, on the other hand, it did
not lie in them, and I applied myself only to them, then I should
also have to go without the highest happiness. I, therefore, re
volved in my mind whether, perchance, it would not be possible to
arrive at the new plan of life, or, at least, some certainty about it,
without any change in the order and usual plan of my life, a thing
which I have often attempted in vain. Now the things which one
mostly meets with in life, and which, so far as one may gather from
their actions, men esteem as the highest good, are reducible to
these three, namely, riches, honour, and pleasure. By these three
the mind is so distracted that it can scarcely think of any other
good. . . . When, therefore, I saw that all these things stood in
the way of my applying myself to any new plan of life; in fact,
that they were so opposed to it that one must necessarily abstain
either from the one or from the other, I was forced to inquire which
would be the more useful to me; for, as I have already said, I
seemed to be willing to let go a sure good for something uncertain.
But after brooding a little over this subject I found, in the first
place, that if I let go those things and devoted myself to the new
plan of life I should be letting go a good uncertain by its very
nature ... for one which was uncertain, not in its nature . . .
but only as regards its attainment. After unremitting reflection I
came to see that, if I could only make up my mind thoroughly,
then I should give up sure evils for a sure good. . . . Not with
out reason did I use the words, if I could only make up my mind
thoroughly. For although I saw this so clearly in my mind, yet I
could not thus put aside all avarice, sensuous pleasure, and the desire
for fame. This one thing I saw, that so long as my mind revolved
these thoughts, so long, did it turn away from those things, and
consixjer seripusly the new plan of life. This was .a great comfort

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Iv

to me. . . . And although at first these periods were rare and
only of very brief duration, yet as the true good gradually became
better known to me so these periods grew more frequent and
longer."

The above " confession" was written by Spinoza in 1661.
The inner struggle between worldly allurements and the
beck of the spirit was over then. Indeed already his earlier
work, the Short Treatise, which was completed in 1660, bears
unmistakable evidence of the peace which crowned that
inward conflict. This conflict must therefore be referred
to the years immediately preceding 1660. His last years in
Amsterdam, when he made his first acquaintance with real
life and the struggle for existence, must have brought home
to him often enough the desirableness of worldly goods,
and the hardships of poverty and obscurity. After all, he
was human, and he could scarcely escape the common lot
of mortals the conflict between the two souls which dwell
in mortal breast. But Spinoza was not given to speak about
himself. He lifts but a corner of the veil, behind which we
may well conjecture scenes of storm and stress during the
period intervening between his excommunication in 1656
and his departure from Amsterdam in 1660. Early in that
year, weary of the whir and the worldliness of that com
mercial centre, he went to dwell among unworldly folk with
old-world virtues in an out-of-the-world village Rijnsburg.
He withdrew from the madding crowd, but not in disgust
or misanthropy. He had caught a glimpse of the highest
good of man, and he wanted to strengthen his hold thereon
under more favourable conditions. He had discovered that
the sorrows of man "arise from the love of the transient,"
while "love for an object eternal and infinite feeds the
mind with unmixed joy, free from all sorrow."

Ivi INTRODUCTION

6. SPINOZA S STAY IN RIJNSBURG 1660-1663

Rijnsburg is a village some six or seven miles north-west
of Leyden. Its modest cottages, narrow lanes, quiet water
ways, and quaint medieval church still present an old-world
appearance very much as in the days of Spinoza except,
of course, for the clumsy, though convenient, steam-trams
which pass by on their way to and from Leyden and
Katwijk or Noordwijk-aan-Zee. Within easy walking dis
tance from it, on the road to Leyden, is Endgeest, a nice
rural little place where Descartes once stayed for a number
of years, but now noted chiefly for its lunatic asylum.

During the seventeenth century Rijnsburg was the head
quarters of the Collegiants. This sect, whose origin has
already been explained above, repudiated infant baptism,
and insisted on adult baptism by immersion. And Rijnsburg,
on the old Rhein, was their place of baptism. That was the
reason why the Collegiants were also commonly called the
" Rijnsburgers." Now Spinoza, as we have seen, numbered
several Collegiants among his friends, and it was probably
on the suggestion of one of his Collegiant friends that he
went to live there. At all events, early in the year 1660 he
seems to have taken up his quarters there, probably with a
surgeon of the name Hermann Homan, in a newly built
little cottage standing in a narrow lane, which has since
then come to be known as Spinoza Lane. Some time after
wards, apparently, the landlord s pious humanitarianism led
him to inscribe or to have inscribed on a stone in the cottage
wall the well-meant message expressed in the concluding
stanza of Kamphuyzen s May Morning :

" Alas ! if all men would be wise,

And would be good as well,
The Earth would be a Paradise,
Now it is mostly Hell."

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ivii

And it was by this inscription that, on the authority of an
old tradition, the cottage has been identified. It is still in
existence, and is still surrounded by open fields rich in
garden produce and bulbs. Restored, and equipped with
all that diligent search could find and that money could
procure in the way of things interesting to students of
Spinoza, the cottage is now known as the Spinoza-huis or
Spinoza Museum, and serves as a kind of shrine sacred to
the memory of the philosopher, and many pilgrims bend
their footsteps there to pay homage to a profound mind and
lofty character, and feel something of his calm of mind in
that haunt of ancient peace.

One reason which prompted Spinoza to seek a quiet
retreat was probably the desire to write down his thoughts
in some systematic form. Dissatisfied with the Scholastic
philosophy still in vogue then, he and his friends had turned
eagerly to the writings of Descartes. The opposition of the
strict Calvinists to the Cartesian philosophy rather tended to
recommend it to the Remonstrants (including the Colle-
giants), and, indeed, to all who had suffered from, or were
opposed to, the religious intolerance of the dominant
Reformed Church. The cry for impartiality and an open
mind in the interpretation of Scripture was felt to have a
certain kinship with the Cartesian method of philosophising,
his preliminary doubt of whatever could be reasonably
disputed. Hence there was a gradual coalition between
liberal religion and Cartesian philosophy. Spinoza s friends
were mostly Cartesians, and remained such to the end.
Whether Spinoza himself was ever a thoroughgoing Cartesian
is not known. That Descartes writings exercised a very
potent influence on Spinoza there is no doubt what
ever. By 1660, however, Spinoza had already outgrown the
fundamentals of Cartesian Metaphysics, though he still con
tinued to follow Descartes in his Physics. Now we have
already remarked that, during his last years in Amsterdam,

Iviii INTRODUCTION

Spinoza seems to have acted as teacher or leader of a small
philosophical circle. Its members, including Spinoza him
self, were primarily interested in religious questions at first.
They approached philosophy from the side of religion, and
only in so far as religious problems led up to philosophical
considerations. God and His attributes, Nature and Crea
tion, Man and his Well-being, the nature of the Human
Mind and the Immortality of the Soul these were the topics
which chiefly interested them, and on which, we may assume,
Spinoza had accumulated various notes for those informal
talks with them. These notes he wanted to elaborate and
to systematise. This was the first task which occupied him
at Rijnsburg, and it resulted in the Short Treatise on God,
Man and his Well-being. But he continued to keep in
touch with his Amsterdam friends and sent them the parts of
the manuscript as he completed them. Though Cartesian in
appearance, and partly also in substance, the Short Treatise,
Spinoza s very first philosophical essay, already marks a
definite departure from the philosophy of Descartes, in its
identification of God with Nature, and its consequent
determinism and naturalism. Spinoza himself fully realised
the extent of his deviation from Descartes, and the
novelty of his views even as compared with the novelties
of Cartesianism, which was at that time " the new philo
sophy " par excellence. So he begged his friends not to
be impatient with his novel views, but to consider them
carefully, remembering that "a thing does not therefore
cease to be true because it is not accepted by many."
He also realised that some of these views were liable to
prove rather dangerous to minds more eager for novelty
than for truth. He was therefore careful about the kind
of people to whom he communicated his views, and also
begged his trusted friends to be careful likewise. Caution
was also necessary on account of the unremitting vigilance
of heretic-hunters.

[Conclusion of Spinoza s letter to Oldenburg. October 1661. S p. cxxiii.]

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixi

"As the character of the age in which we live [Spinoza adds] is
not unknown to you, I would beg of you most earnestly to be very
careful about the communication of these things to others. I do
not want to say that you should absolutely keep them to yourselves,
but only that if ever you wish to communicate them to others, then
you shall have no other object in view except only the happiness of
your neighbour ; being at the same time clearly assured that the
reward of your labour will not disappoint you therein."

Having finished the first draft of his Short Treatise
Spinoza felt that he had attacked all the great problems of
religion and of philosophy, without any preliminary account
of the requirements of philosophic method, without any
adequate justification of his own mode of treatment. To
this problem, accordingly, he turned his attention next,
and began his Treatise on the Improvement of the Under
standing. In a letter dated October 1661, in reply to some
questions of Henry Oldenburg, Spinoza states that he had
written a complete little treatise on the origin of things, and
their relation to the first cause, and also on the improvement
of the understanding, and that he was actually busy just
then copying and correcting it. It would appear from this
that Spinoza s intention at that time may have been to
combine the Short Treatise and the Treatise on the Improve
ment of the Understanding. What actually happened, how
ever, is not quite certain. The editors of Spinoza s
posthumous works only had a fragment of the Treatise on
the Improvement of the Understanding, and apparently
nothing of the Short Treatise, of which we only possess at
present two Dutch versions, discovered about 1860. The
editors of the Opera Posthuma say that the Treatise on the
Improvement of the Understanding was one of Spinoza s
earliest works, and that he had never finished it, but they
appear to be uncertain whether it was only want of time or
the inherent difficulties of the subject which prevented him
from finishing it.

Ixii INTRODUCTION

In the meantime Spinoza seems to have acquired some
reputation not only with the Rijnsburgers but even among
some of the professors at Leyden. This may have been due
to his participation in the Collegiant Conferences held at
Rijnsburg. These conferences for the discussion of religious
questions were open to all who cared to come. And some
of the students from the neighbouring University at Leyden
made a practice of attending these meetings and taking
part in the debates. Some of them very likely came there
for fun, though others, no doubt, had worthier motives.
It was in this way that Spinoza came into touch with,
among others, Johannes Casearius and the brothers
Adriaan and Johannes Koerbagh, of whom more will be
said anon. And in this way also Spinoza s name and
history may have become known to some of the Leyden
professors, among them Johannes Coccejus, professor of
theology, famous as the author of the first standard Hebrew
dictionary, and even more so as the author of the dictum
that an interpreter of the Scriptures should approach his
task with a mind free from all dogmatic prejudices the
dictum which helped to bring about a kind of alliance
between the Remonstrants and the Cartesians, to which
reference has already been made. Now Coccejus was a
native of Bremen, and when his countryman Henry
Oldenburg visited Leyden in 1661, eager as usual to make
the acquaintance of everybody who was remarkable in
any way, Coccejus may have suggested to him a visit to
Spinoza. Possibly Oldenburg had also heard something
about Spinoza from Huygens, who was in correspondence
with the English scientists among whom Oldenburg had
moved, had actually visited London that very year, and
may have met Oldenburg at one of the meetings of the
" Gresham College," which was soon to blossom into the
" Royal Society." At all events, in July 1661 Oldenburg
visited Spinoza in Rijnsburg.

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixiii

Henry Oldenburg, as already remarked, was a native of
Bremen, where he was born about 1620. During the war
between England and Holland which followed Cromwell s
enforcement of the Navigation Act, in 1651, the shipowners
of Bremen seem to have suffered. It was therefore decided
to send an envoy to make representations to Cromwell con
cerning the neutrality of Bremen. Accordingly in 1653
Henry Oldenburg was entrusted with this diplomatic mis
sion, which brought him into touch with Milton, who was
then Latin Secretary to the Council, and other eminent
Englishmen of the time. For some reason he remained in
England after the conclusion of his mission, staying in
Oxford in 1656, and acting as private tutor to various young
gentlemen, including Boyle s nephew, Richard Jones, with
whom he travelled in France, Germany, and Italy, during
the years 1657-1660, attending the most important academies
of science, and becoming acquainted with the great lights
of the scientific world. During his stay in Oxford, Olden
burg had been associated with the leading spirits of the
" Invisible College," a society for the discussion of scientific
problems. There was a similar society in London, the
"Gresham College." With the Restoration of Charles II.,
in 1660, it was decided to apply for a Charter for the
formation of a " Royal Society " to carry on the work of
these two societies, and an acting secretary was required to
undertake the work of organisation, &c. Just then Olden
burg returned from his continental tour, and his wide
reading and extensive knowledge of men and matters
marked him out as just the man for the post, for which he
was accordingly nominated. In the following year, 1661,
Oldenburg had occasion to visit his native town, Bremen,
and on his return journey via Holland, he visited Leyden
(among other places), and thence Rijnsburg, where, as
already mentioned, he had a long interview with Spinoza.
The subject discussed on that occasion and the impres-

Ixiv INTRODUCTION

sion which Spinoza made on Oldenburg may be gathered
from the following letter which Oldenburg wrote to Spinoza
immediately after his return to London, in August 1661.
" It was with such reluctance [he writes] that I tore myself
away from your side, when I recently visited you in your
retreat at Rijnsburg, that no sooner am I back in England
than I already try to join you again, at least as far as this
can be effected by means of correspondence. Solid learn
ing combined with kindliness and refinement (wherewith
Nature and Study have most richly endowed you) have
such an attraction that they win the love of all noble and
liberally educated men. Let us, therefore, most excellent
sir, give each other the right hand of unfeigned friendship,
and cultivate it diligently by every kind of attention and
service. Whatever service my humble powers can render,
consider as yours. And permit me to claim a part of those
intellectual gifts which you possess, if I may do so without
detriment to you. Our conversation at Rijnsburg turned
on God, infinite Extension and Thought, on the difference
and the agreement between these attributes, on the nature
of the union of the human soul with the body ; and further,
on the Principles of the Cartesian and the Baconian Philo
sophy. But as we then discussed themes of such moment
only at a distance, as it were, and cursorily, and as all those
things have since then been lying heavily on my mind, I
now venture to claim the right of our new friendship to ask
you affectionately to explain to me somewhat more fully
your views on the above-mentioned subjects, and not to
mind enlightening me, more especially on these two points,
namely, first, what do you consider to be the true distinc
tion between Extension and Thought ; secondly, what
defects do you observe in the Philosophy of Descartes and
of Bacon, and how, do you think, might they be eliminated,
and replaced by something more sound ? The more freely
you write to me about these and the like, the more closely

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixv

will you bind me to yourself, and the greater will be my
obligation to render similar services, if at all possible."
The letter concludes with a promise to send Spinoza a
volume of scientific essays by Robert Boyle, between whom
and Spinoza, Oldenburg subsequently acted as a kind of
intermediary.

It is not at all clear what kind of an introduction Olden
burg had to Spinoza, or, indeed, whether he had any
introduction at all. And Spinoza was neither so loquacious
nor so indiscreet as to unburden his whole mind to a
stranger. But he had evidently treated Oldenburg un
grudgingly and with his wonted courtesy, and Oldenburg s
letter is certainly very remarkable for its tone of generous
appreciation all the more remarkable because he was con
siderably older than Spinoza, and had been befriended by
so many of the intellectual giants of that period, while
Spinoza was apparently an obscure outcast.

It is noteworthy that Spinoza s conversation with Olden
burg turned on Bacon and Descartes. This is not surprising,
for Spinoza was at that time (1661) very much occupied
with the question of philosophical method, and the two
alternatives which he must have been carefully weighing
against each other were the empirical, inductive method of
Bacon, and the deductive, geometric method of Descartes.
This was the very problem with which he was then grap
pling in his Treatise on the Improvement of the Understanding,
as we gather from his subsequent reply to Oldenburg, which
has already been cited above. Spinoza ultimately sided with
Descartes, in favour of the geometric method. He felt
that the deductive method was the right one in philosophy,
and that the best form of exposition was that exemplified in
Euclid s geometry. This had already been urged, and, to
some extent, also illustrated by Descartes ; and Spinoza
also now tried a similar experiment by casting one of the
chapters of his Short Treatise into geometric form, consti-

Ixvi INTRODUCTION

tuting what is now its First Appendix. Soon afterwards
he was occupied even more with Descartes, and tried a
much more extensive experiment in the application of the
geometric method.

In 1662, possibly in the winter of 1661-2, Johannes
Casearius, a student of Theology at the University of
Leyden, came to stay in Rijnsburg, and lived in the same
house with Spinoza, who agreed to help him with the study
of philosophy. Casearius was only about nineteen then,
apparently rather immature and fickle-minded, more devoted
to novelty than to truth. He proved to be very trying to
Spinoza, and caused him some anxiety. Still, Spinoza had
faith in the youth s good qualities, which only required
a little time to mature and assert themselves. And the
subsequent history of Casearius confirmed Spinoza s antici
pations. In the meantime, however, Spinoza had to be
cautious in the treatment of his pupil. What Casearius no
doubt wanted of Spinoza was, that he should expound to
him the newest philosophy. This generally meant Carte-
sianism then. Spinoza had something newer than that, and
Casearius may have got some inkling of this, and came to
him for that reason. But Spinoza did not think it good for
one of his youth and temper. He therefore decided to
teach him the essentials of the scholastic metaphysics as
then taught at most of the universities, but to combine with
it a good deal of his own criticism, and also to substitute
altogether the Cartesian for the older physics. He had
probably pursued a very similar course with his previous
pupils in Amsterdam. But being convinced by this time
that the geometric method was the most persuasive method
of imparting knowledge, he turned the Second Part and
a portion of the Third Part of Descartes Principia into
geometric form.

In the meanwhile, Spinoza had been growing discontented
with his Short Treatise. For a time he probably tried to

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixvii

bring it into line with the continuous advance of his thought
by means of modifications and additional notes. Finding,
however, that he could wield the geometric method of
exposition so well, he seems to have decided to start
afresh, and to do for his own philosophy what he had
already done, in a measure, for the philosophy of Descartes.
In short, he commenced his Ethics, and early in the follow
ing year, 1663, a part, if not the whole, of the First Book of
the Ethics was already in the hands of his Amsterdam
friends.

By that time, however, Spinoza was already preparing to
leave Rijnsburg. He had been there about three years
then. Most likely they were his happiest years. They were
certainly among his most fruitful years. But one of the
reasons which had brought him there also drove him away
now. He had come there so as to be able to work quietly,
undisturbed by friend or foe. And for the first two years
or so his hopes were realised. But gradually, as his circle
of friends and acquaintances extended, more and more of
his time was taken up by them, and taken away from his
work. He therefore decided to remove from there to
Voorburg, near the Hague. He left Rijnsburg in April
1663, but, before going to Voorburg, he wanted to see his
old friends again, and went accordingly to Amsterdam,
where he stayed about two months. While on this visit to
Amsterdam he showed to his friends his Euclidean version
of Descartes Principia, Part II. Jarig Jelles, Lodewijk
Meyer, and other Cartesian friends of his thereupon per
suaded him to do the same with the first part of the Principia.
He did so in a fortnight, and consented to their publication,
together with his own Metaphysical Thoughts, on condition
that Meyer revised the whole work, improving its phrase
ology where necessary, and adding a preface to explain that
Spinoza was far from being in entire agreement with the
Cartesian philosophy, even as thus moulded in the Euclidean

Ixviii INTRODUCTION

mould. This was readily done, and the work appeared soon
afterwards. It was published by Rieuwertsz ; Meyer wrote
the Preface ; and this was followed by a poem, Ad Librum,
composed by J[ohannes] B[ouwmeister], M.D., Meyer s
" oldest and best friend." It was the only book to appear
in Spinoza s lifetime with his name on it. Spinoza (it
should be noted at once here) had no delusions about the
absolute cogency of the geometric method. For in his
very first publication he expounded and defended more
geometrico a system of philosophy with which he did not
agree.

7. SPINOZA S STAY IN VOORBURG 1663-1670

In June 1663 Spinoza arrived in Voorburg and took up
his lodgings in the Kerklaan, at the house of a painter whose
name was Daniel Tydemann. Though little more than half
an hour s walk from the Hague, the village of Voorburg was
at that time almost as isolated as Rijnsburg, and there were
times when it took Spinoza a week and more to get a letter
to or from the Hague. During the next two years or so he
was busily at work on his Ethics. But he found time also to
keep up a fairly extensive correspondence with old friends,
to make new friends, and to pay occasional visits to other
towns. In the winter of 1663-4 ne returned to Rijnsburg for
about two months ; in the following winter (1664-5) he seems
to have visited either the sister or the brother of Simon de
Vries, at Schiedam ; in the following April (i665)he visited his
old friends in Amsterdam ; he also made frequent excursions
to the Hague, where he was wont to stay with a certain Mesach
Tydemann, possibly a brother of his Voorburg landlord.

If Spinoza found Voorburg rather lonely at first, conditions
changed soon enough, so that he complained that he was
scarcely his own master, so much of his time was taken up

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixix

by callers. Of the people with whom he associated more or
less during his stay in Voorburg the most interesting were
Vossius the philologist, subsequently Canon of Windsor
(who probably consulted Spinoza on subjects relating to the
Hebrew language and literature, much as his father, Gerhard
Vossius, used to consult Manasseh ben Israel), Christian
Huygens, Hudde, van Beuningen, and Jan de Witt.

Christian Huygens, the discoverer of Saturn s rings, inven
tor of the pendulum clock, and originator of the undulatory
theory of light, was living within easy walking distance of
Spinoza during the years 1664-6, and the two saw a good
deal of one another during that period. Both of them were
keenly interested in the making and improvement of lenses,
and this common interest formed their chief or only bond.
In character the two men were very unlike. Spinoza was
generous and without reserve in imparting whatever know
ledge he possessed and which might be of service to others ;
Huygens, on the other hand, was stinting and ever on his
guard lest his trade secrets should leak out. In his letters
to his brothers, Huygens refers to Spinoza as I Israelite, le
Juif de Voorburg, or noire Juif, asks his brother to inform
him of Spinoza s doings, but urges him to keep from him a
certain optical secret lest Hudde and others should get to
hear of it through him. To strangers, no doubt, he spoke
with greater respect of Spinoza. To Tschirnhaus, for
instance, he remarked some years later (1675) that he had a
great regard for Spinoza.

It was probably through Huygens that Spinoza got to
know Johan Hudde. Hudde was Burgomaster of Amster
dam, and a member of the States of Holland, in which
capacity he had frequent occasion to visit the Hague, which
was the seat of government. He was, moreover, a man of
a scientific bent of mind, which prompted him to take up
the art of grinding lenses, which in those days seems to have
been a fashionable hobby, not unlike present-day photo-

Ixx INTRODUCTION

graphy. This interest in lenses may have led to his seeking
and making the acquaintance of Huygens, and ; through him,
of Spinoza. We have just seen how anxious Christian
Huygens was lest Hudde should learn from Spinoza more
than Huygens cared that he should know. Hudde, more
over, unlike Huygens, was also keenly interested in problems
of religious philosophy, and we still have three letters which
Spinoza addressed to him on the subject of God s unity.
Hudde very likely introduced Spinoza to some of his friends
in the political sphere, and was, no doubt, instrumental in
procuring for Spinoza that protection and patronage the
desire for which was possibly one of the chief reasons why
Spinoza had come to live near the Hague.

When Spinoza gave his consent to the publication of his
version of Descartes Principia, he had a special object in
view. This object he explained clearly in his letter to Olden
burg, in the latter part of July 1663. " It may be [he writes]
that on this occasion some of those who occupy the highest
posts in my fatherland may be found desirous of seeing my
other writings, which I do acknowledge as expressing my
views ; they will then enable me to publish them without any
risk of violating the civil law. Should this, indeed, occur,
then I shall, no doubt, publish something immediately; but
if not, then I will rather be silent than obtrude my opinions
on men against the wishes of my country, and so incur their
hostility." What exactly Spinoza meant to publish imme
diately is not quite certain possibly the Short Treatise,
more likely the first book of his Ethics, or the whole of it
which he may have hoped to complete in the near future.

At all events it is clear that Spinoza was anxious to enlist
the sympathy of some of those who held the reins of
government, and Hudde was just the man to help him. He
probably introduced him to Coenraad van Beuningen, an
ex- Burgomaster of Amsterdam, and sometime diplomatic
envoy of the Netherlands at the Courts of France and

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxi

Sweden. Van Beuningen was friendly towards the Jews, and
when Louis XIV. remarked to him that it was scandalous
that the Dutch should tolerate the Jews, he replied : " Is
not the fact that God himself has not destroyed them a proof
that He wants them to be tolerated in the world ? And
since all other countries expel them, and yet they must
live somewhere, it cannot be ungodly that Amsterdam
at least should receive them." But most important of all
was Spinoza s introduction to Jan de Witt, the Grand Pen
sionary of Holland, of whom more will be said presently.

Spinoza was gradually being drawn into the turbulent
current of contemporary politics. In the meantime, how
ever, he was making progress with his Ethics, receiving calls
from old friends and distinguished strangers, and corre
sponding with all sorts and conditions.

Oldenburg s first letter to Spinoza, which was cited above,
was followed by a cordial and regular correspondence. The
Royal Society, of which Oldenburg was the acting secretary,
had (as Spinoza was duly informed) received its royal charter
from Charles II. in 1662, and was going full sail on its course
of scientific exploration. Its ambition was nothing less
than (to use Oldenburg s bold phrase) " to take the whole
universe to task," and its versatile cosmopolitan secretary
spared no pains to publish its doings to the world, and to
gather all the latest scientific news and gossip from the four
corners of the earth. Spinoza thus heard from Oldenburg all
that was done in England for the advancement of science,
also frequent kind messages from Robert Boyle, who, how
ever, never condescended to write himself to the "odd
philosopher," though he sent him his writings and invited
his criticisms, and replied to them through Oldenburg.
Spinoza also sent what news he could, especially about
Huygens. Occasionally we hear echoes of contemporary
events in other than purely scientific spheres. Oldenburg
complains about the Plague which was raging in London

Ixxii INTRODUCTION

during 1665, and seriously hindered the work of the Royal
Society. He moralises on the inhumanity of warfare,
d propos of the war that was being waged between England
and Holland in the same year. And he wants to know what
Spinoza and also the Jews of Amsterdam think of the
<( rumour which is on everybody s lips here that the Jews
are about to return to Palestine." This had reference to
the escapades of the impostor Sabbatai Zevi, who began
as a pseudo-Messiah and ended as an apostate, but whose
pretences, aided by the incessant sufferings of the Jews,
deceived for a time even the Amsterdam Jews, whose opinion
Oldenburg was curious to know prayers being offered up
in the Amsterdam Synagogue for "the King Messiah," and
some new prayer-books being dated " the year one of the
Messiah " ! It would be interesting to know what Spinoza
thought about this tragi-comedy. But just at this point the
correspondence between Spinoza and Oldenburg comes to
an abrupt end. The next letter between them, at least of
those which are still extant, was written some ten years later.
Possibly there were other letters, or it may be that the Great
Fire of London in 1666 and the continued war between
England and Holland (in which Bremen, Oldenburg s native
city, sided with England) made further correspondence
impracticable for a time ; while in 1667 Oldenburg was
actually imprisoned in the Tower of London, charged with
"dangerous plans and practices," the vagueness of which
suggests that it was simply his vast foreign correspondence
that had made him an object of suspicion to a king who
was too much of an adept at intrigue not to suspect every
body, and to a government which had no appreciation of
a man who had "taken to task the whole universe."
Oldenburg was eventually released ; but his sad experiences
had made him nervous and circumspect, as we shall see.

Among other correspondence, that with William van
Blyenbergh is noteworthy at once as a study in cross-pur-

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxiii

poses, when people argue from totally different standpoints,
and also as illustrating the patience of Spinoza. Blyen
bergh, a merchant of Dordrecht, had read Spinoza s version
of Descartes Principia several times with pleasure and
profit, as he informed Spinoza. But finding certain diffi
culties in that book he ventured to ask Spinoza (in a letter
dated December 1664) for further explanations, assuring
him, at the same time, that his questions were prompted by
no other motive than the desire for truth, as he was not
dependent on any profession, supporting himself by honest
merchandise, and simply devoting his leisure to problems
of religious philosophy. Spinoza thought that here was a
man after his own heart, and gladly hastened to deal with
his difficulties. These difficulties turned chiefly on the
problem of evil God s responsibility for the existence of
evil, and the apparent reduction of good and evil to the
same moral level, on the views of Spinoza. In the course
of his lengthy and rather garrulous epistles Blyenbergh made
it quite clear that he followed both Reason and Revelation,
but that whenever these conflicted then the Scriptures had
precedence over Reason. From such a standpoint, of
course, the correspondence was bound to be futile from the
first, but Spinoza dealt most patiently and gently with
Blyenbergh, as long as human patience could endure it,
and brought the correspondence to a close in June 1665.
In due course Blyenbergh requited Spinoza s long suffering
by writing " refutations " of his Tractates Theologico-Politicus
and his Ethica, for the deep thoughts of which he could
design no holier origin than Hell !

From one of Spinoza s letters, written in June 1665, it
appears that, by that time, his Ethics had advanced as far as
the end of what is now the fourth book, and that Spinoza
expected to finish it shortly. In a letter, however, which
Oldenburg wrote to Spinoza in September of the same year
he remarks jestingly : " I see that you are not so much

Ixxiv INTRODUCTION

philosophising as, if one may say so, theologising ; since your
thoughts are turning to angels, prophecy, and miracles."
Evidently Spinoza had informed him that he was already
at work on what was to be the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus.
And in his reply to Oldenburg s letter, Spinoza writes (Sep
tember or October 1665) quite explicitly that he is writing a
Treatise on the Scriptures. The Ethica, then, must have
been put aside suddenly, just as it was nearing completion,
arid for the next four years or so we find Spinoza hard at
work on his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus. This certainly
seems strange. What was the cause of this sudden change
in the direction of his thoughts ?

In his letter to Oldenburg, Spinoza states three reasons
which prompted him to take up the new Treatise. In the
first place, he wanted to deal with the theologians, whose
prejudices were the chief obstacle which prevented people
from becoming philosophical. Spinoza intended to expose
these prejudices, and even hoped to convert some of the
more intelligent divines. In the second place, he wanted to
refute the charge of atheism which was constantly brought
against him. In the third place, he wanted to defend by
every means in his power freedom of thought and speech
from the tyranny and presumption of the clergy, who were
doing their utmost to suppress it. To appreciate these
reasons adequately it is necessary to make a brief survey of
the historical circumstances which seemed to call for such
a book as the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, the need for
which must evidently have appeared very urgent to Spinoza
to have made him put aside his great work, just as it was
nearing completion, in order to attack these mixed problems
of theology and politics.

Spinoza, we have seen, was anxious to win the favour of
the men who were in power, so that he might publish his
philosophy without let or hindrance. Such patronage was
indispensable in those days, for the sake of both the thinker

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxv

and his thoughts. Descartes, for instance, did not feel safe,
notwithstanding his most ceremonious bows to the Church ;
and even in the Netherlands, where there was neither
occasion nor inclination to study the susceptibilities of the
holy Roman Church, the Cartesian philosophy met with
considerable clerical resistance, and was repeatedly forbidden
to be taught at the Universities. Although the civil authori
ties were generally inclined to be liberal, yet the Calvinist
or Reformed Clergy often had sufficient power to cause the
confiscation and destruction of books to which they took
exception, and the authors of such books were occasionally
made to surfer both in purse and in person. Spinoza s desire
to win the favour and protection of those in power was
therefore natural enough. And he succeeded almost better
than he could have expected. For he enlisted the sympathy
of no less a personage than the Grand Pensionary himself
Jan de Witt. His very success, however, in a way defeated his
primary object, by diverting his attention from purely philo
sophical problems. How this happened will soon be evident.
Reference has already been made to the struggle between
the Remonstrants and the contra-Remonstrants, and the
tragic fate of the Remonstrant leader, Barneveldt, in 1619.
That conflict was by no means a purely religious conflict.
Church and State, Religion and Politics, if not quite so in
timately united as elsewhere, were anything but completely
divorced even in the Netherlands. Politically that conflict
was one between the principle of autonomy of each of the
United Provinces, and especially of Holland, and the prin
ciple of the predominance of the House of Orange. In
that early conflict, Barneveldt stood for the former principle,
Maurice, the Stadtholder (or so-called " Lieutenant," but
virtual or would-be monarch), for the latter. Though
Barneveldt came to an end in 1619, the conflict did
not ; it only required a suitable opportunity tc break
out afresh. In 1650, the Stadtholder y William II., chagrined

Ixxvi INTRODUCTION

because of the independent attitude of Amsterdam, arrested
its five chief burghers, among them Jacob de Witt. They
were released soon afterwards and deprived of their office.
But their bitter resentment may be gauged by the fact that,
on the death of William II., in 1651, de Witt had a medal
struck representing William II. lying dead on the ground,
with the motto, Liberty for ever ! The years which followed
were years of great anxiety for the Netherlands. Cromwell,
prompted by the Utopian idea of a European Protestant
Coalition, proposed to the States-General of the Netherlands
that they should suffer themselves to be absorbed by Eng
land. When this was declined, he brought the " Naviga
tion Act " into operation with a view to crippling the Dutch
shipping trade. War followed. But negotiations were
soon reopened, and peace was concluded in 1654. It was
during these troubles that Jan de Witt, the brilliant son of
Jacob de Witt, got and used his opportunity. In 1653 he
had been elected Grand Pensionary of Holland, and it was
largely through his skill that the peace negotiations with
England came to a successful issue in the following year.
Unfortunately for de Witt, Cromwell, in his anxiety to keep
Charles II. at a safe distance, stipulated as one of the con
ditions of peace that the young Prince of Orange (son of
William II., and nephew of Charles II.) should be made in
eligible for the posts of Stadtholder and Captain-General of
the Netherlands forces. And, knowing that most of the
United Provinces would strongly resent the very sugges
tion of such a condition, de Witt had to persuade the
Hollanders to bind themselves at least to such a secret
" Act of Seclusion." This, of course, was bound to inten
sify the opposition between the de Witts and the House of
Orange, and to lead to a fresh conflict between the Repub
lican and the Monarchist parties in the Netherlands. The
House of Orange, largely owing to its early alliance (in
the days of Barneveldt) with the orthodox majority, eventu-

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxvii

ally realised their monarchical ambitions, and the de Witts,
whose broad tolerance and republican zeal made them more
like William the Silent than were his own descendants, were
destined to meet with a tragic end. But all that was still to
come. At the time with which we are at present concerned
Jan de Witt was still the Grand Pensionary of Holland, and
virtually the head of the United Provinces. Still, he had
his enemies. His very tolerance gained for him the secret
opposition of the Reformed Clergy, who were bent on
Calvinising everybody and everything. And the Orange
party were assiduous in cultivating the friendship of the
Calvinists. The one radical safeguard for the maintenance
of the Republic, as de Witt must have seen, lay in widen
ing the outlook of its citizens, so that politics might be
purged of religious animosities, and people might live at
peace with each other, and co-operate in all national enter
prises, without regard to their private views on matters
which did not affect their conduct as citizens. In 1665,
during the wars with England and Sweden, when the Dutch
were so hard pressed that they had to employ French troops,
the voice of discontent made itself heard in various quarters,
and Calvinist prophets made capital out of these tem
porary trials by proclaiming them to be visitations sent
from heaven in punishment of the godlessness of the
country s rulers, and clamoured that the young Prince of
Orange should be set in supreme authority to make the
country more godly. " Moses and Aaron, the Sword and
the Word," they cried, must always go hand in hand.

Already before this, Jan de Witt seems to have urged or
encouraged various writers, who shared his views, to use
their pen in support of his policy of tolerance, in short, in
support of the separation between Church and State. One
such book was written by his own nephew and namesake,
others were written by Dr. Lodewijk Meyer and other
members of the Spinoza circle, and Jan de Witt himself is

Ixxviii I NTRODUCTION

said to have written or contributed some chapters to such a
political pamphlet. It seems natural enough, therefore, that at
such a critical period Spinoza, the " good republican," should
layaside his more speculative //MOZ in order to playhis part in
the warfare against bigotryand intolerance. He would expose
the prejudices, presumption, and the lust for power of the
clerical party. But it was idle simply to add one more poli
tical pamphlet to the multitude in which the principle of
freedom of thought and speech had already been ably de
fended on general philosophical and humanitarian grounds.
The zealots were deaf and blind to such arguments. To them
philosophy meant heresy, and humanism meant atheism.
The citadel of the clerics was the Bible. From it they
drew all their arguments with which they so often
silenced people, even when they failed to convince them.
Spinoza resolved to turn his attention to the citadel itself,
leaving mere skirmishes to others. He would show that the
very Bible on which these presumptuous theologians based
their whole case did not bear them out at all, that they were
simply ignorant of these very Scriptures, and that they used
religion and the Bible merely as a cloak for their own im
pudent lust for power over others. Such a work required
vast and varied learning and insight but Spinoza (and at
that time perhaps he alone) had them in an eminent degree.
Andit required time perhaps more than Spinoza anticipated.
But Spinoza grudged neither time nor effort, and for the next
four years he was deeply engrossed in theological and political
studies, which resulted in the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus.
Interfused with this wider, grander motive there was yet
another, a private or personal motive. He desired to show
(as he wrote to Oldenburg in the autumn of 1665) that he was
not an atheist, as was commonly supposed. By the time
Spinoza finished his treatise he had probably forgotten all
about this private aim. If he was really still anxious to
convert public opinion about himself, he could scarcely hope

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxix

to do so by publishing his treatise anonymously, as he did
in 1670. The fact is that although his personal experiences
added zest to his enterprise in 1665, they gradually sank
into the background as he proceeded with his work. But in
any case it is interesting to ask what these personal expe
riences were. One naturally thinks, at first, of his excom
munication in 1656. But that was an old story already, and
Spinoza was at that time hardly concerned much, if at all,
about the good opinion of the Amsterdam Jews. It will be
better to turn to Voorburg, and to what happened there in
1665, for light on this subject. It was not an important
event to which we are referring, but it is interesting as an
incident in Spinoza s life, and as typical of the religious
temper of the time. The pastorate of the Voorburg Church
happened to be vacant in that year. There were two can
didates in the field, one liberal, the other orthodox.
Spinoza s landlord and others petitioned the authorities on
behalf of the more liberal candidate. Thereupon the ortho
dox party sent a counter-petition accusing the Tydemann
party of sheer wickedness, and stating at the same time that
the Tydemann petition had been " concocted by a certain
Spinoza, an Amsterdam Jew by birth, who is an atheist,
scoffs at all religion, and is inflicting harm on the Republic,
as many learned persons and ministers can attest." Evidently
Spinoza had an evil repute among the champions of ortho
doxy in the village, though it is pleasant to think that the
more liberal section showed sufficient faith in him to enlist
his sympathy and help even in their religious concerns.

In the course of the same year Spinoza had a distinguished
visitor in the person of Field-Marshal Charles de St. Denis,
Seigneur de St. Evremont, who has left us a pleasant record
of his impression. " Spinoza [he wrote] was of medium
height and had pleasant features. His knowledge, his
modesty, and his unselfishness made all the intellectual
people in the Hague esteem him and seek his acquaintance."

Ixxx INTRODUCTION

Spinoza remained in Voorburg till 1670, but not many
details have reached us about him even during this period.
He kept in touch with his Amsterdam friends, to whom he
sent his manuscript of the Ethics for reading and discussion
at their philosophical society s gatherings. Some of them,
notably Simon de Vries, also visited him at Voorburg. That
Spinoza s health was not robust is evident from his letter to
one of his medical friends at Amsterdam (A. Koerbagh), to
whom he incidentally mentions that he had been suffering
repeatedly from tertian ague, and asks him for some con
serve of roses. It was about this time apparently that Simon
de Vries wanted Spinoza to accept from him a gift of two
thousand florins. Simon de Vries died in 1667, and his
death must have been felt very deeply by Spinoza. The
following year, 1668, brought bad news about another of
his friends. Adriaan Koerbagh, whom Spinoza got to know
at Rijnsburg, had studied law and medicine at Leyden,
and was possessed of considerable mental gifts. Spinoza
liked him, and encouraged him in the study of philosophy,
and in the above-mentioned letter he actually offered to
send him the manuscript of the Ethics. But, though clever,
Koerbagh seems to have had little or no character. At all
events, early in 1668 he published two works, entitled A
Garden of Flowers, and Light in Dark Places, in which he
attacked medicine, morals, and religion in a most wanton
and shameless manner. He was promptly arrested, and
though he expressed regret and recanted, yet (as this was
not his first offence) he was fined 6000 florins and con
demned to ten years imprisonment with hard labour, to be
followed by exile. It should be mentioned to his honour that
he entirely exonerated his brother, who had also been arrested;
and when Spinoza s name was mentioned in the course of
the trial he took the entire responsibility upon himself,
emphatically denying that Spinoza or any one else was in
any way responsible for what he had written. However

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxxi

little there may be to say in Koerbagh s favour, yet
the punishment was certainly savage. And one of the
officers of the court had actually urged something much
more severe, namely, that his fortune should be confiscated,
his right thumb cut off, his tongue bored through with a
red-hot iron, and that he should be imprisoned for thirty
years ! Koerbagh died in prison in the following year.
The affair must have made a deep impression on Spinoza,
who had expected much from him, and some of whose
views Koerbagh had certainly assimilated and spread
though Spinoza was the last man to condone immorality.

In the meantime Spinoza had been busy with his Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus, and it was published in 1670. He
had now been seven years at Voorburg, and he may have
needed a change, or his friends at the Hague may have
urged him to come and live among them. At all events
Spinoza left the village, and went to live in the Hague.

8. SPINOZA S STAY IN THE HAGUE 1670-1677

Spinoza s first lodgings in the Hague were situated on
the Stille Veerkade, a quiet wharf not far from the Great
Church of St. James. He lodged and boarded with a
widow of the name of Van Velen. A single room on the
second floor served him as bedroom, workroom, and study,
all in one. Curiously enough, it was in that same room
that Colerus subsequently wrote one of the earliest bio
graphies of Spinoza. The house has been identified (it
bears the number 32) but it has, no doubt, been very much
altered since those days ; and the Stille Veerkade is no longer
a wharf, but an ordinary street, the waterway having been
filled up with earth long since.

Probably one of the attractions which the Hague had

Ixxxii INTRODUCTION

for Spinoza was that it brought him into closer touch with
Jan de Witt. That he had known him for some time already
seems certain. The political views of the Tractatus Theo-
logico-Politicus are very like those of the Grand Pensionary,
and it was under his protection that this treatise had been
published. When the opportunity arose, de Witt s enemies
spoke quite openly of the treatise as a wicked instrument
"forged in hell by a renegade Jew and the devil, and issued
with the knowledge of Mr. Jan de Witt." It was probably
also during his stay in Voorburg, and while giving his time
and energy to the composition of the Tractatus Theologico-
Politicus, that Spinoza accepted from de Witt an annual
pension of 200 florins, which was paid even after de
Witt s death. Once in the Hague, Spinoza must have re
ceived many a visit from the Grand Pensionary ; and local
gossip, indeed, still refers to such private visits from him,
and his usual entrance by the garden door at the back of
the house.

The need of protection from high quarters showed itself
soon enough. Already in the June following the publica
tion of the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, the Church Council
of Amsterdam had condemned it, and the condemnation of
other Church Councils followed in rapid succession. The
book had made a great stir in the learned world, and ran
through five editions within a comparatively short time.
But it had stirred a hornei s nest, and, for many years to
come, theologians and other respectable folks showed their
orthodoxy by incessant denunciations of that godless
treatise. The civil authorities were repeatedly approached
and worried to exercise the arm of the law. But so long as
de Witt was in power the importunate zealots were success
fully resisted. Even after de Witt s death there were men,
like Burgomaster Hudde, who could, for a time, defeat the
efforts of the clerics. But when William III. found it
desirable to ingratiate himself with the clergy and the mob,

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxxiii

and to play to the gallery for a crown, the Tractatus Theo-
logico-Politicus was strictly prohibited (1674), and other
measures were contemplated also against the known author
of the anonymous treatise.

In May 1671 Spinoza found it necessary to change his
lodgings. He was in receipt of 300 florins a year from the
brother of Simon de Vries, and 200 florins a year from de
Witt, that is, about ^40 a year, besides what little he may
have been still earning by making lenses. He found that
he could not afford to continue to pay Mrs. Van Velen s
charges for board and lodging, and therefore looked out for
rooms where he might provide his own food, and econo
mise that way. He accordingly moved into the adjoining
Paviljoensgmgt, where he rented two small rooms in the
house of a painter, Hendrik van der Spyck. This house
has also been identified, and may now be recognised by the
tablet affixed to the front wall just below the window on
the second story, where Spinoza s rooms were. Here also
the "gragt," or waterway, has long since made room for an
ordinary road. Spinoza lived with the Van der Spycks till
the end of his life.

When Spinoza settled in the Hague, after the publication
of his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, he turned his attention
once more to his neglected Ethics, which had already seemed
to be near completion in 1665. The comparatively long
interval which had elapsed since he had put it aside in order
to take up the more urgent work had probably brought
with it the need or the desire for not inconsiderable modi
fications or elaborations of details, and the Ethics only
attained to its final form in 1675. In the meantime, how
ever, Spinoza must have devoted his attention also to other
things besides the Ethics. While at work on his Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus he had again taken up his Hebrew and
Biblical studies, and had mastered a mass of political litera
ture. In that treatise he was chiefly concerned with the

Ixxxiv INTRODUCTION

final results of these studies and reflections, and the different
departments of thought were necessarily all intermingled.
It would naturally occur to him, or some of his friends
would suggest to him, that it was desirable to work out each
of these subjects independently, and more fully than was
possible in the above treatise. Spinoza, while completing
and perfecting his Ethics, would accordingly also be pre
paring for a scientific treatise on the Hebrew language, for
a translation of the Old Testament based on such an exposi
tion of the character of Hebrew, and, lastly, for a separate
treatise on political theories. By way of a change from
theology and politics he would also turn again sometimes
to mathematics and physical science, with a view to supple
menting his Ethics, some day, by a treatise on natural philo
sophy. That Spinoza wished to write such a work on natural
philosophy, and also to give a new exposition of the prin
ciples of algebra, we know ; but he did not live to realise
these wishes. His other intentions fared rather better.
Spinoza did begin a Hebrew Grammar, a Dutch translation
of the Bible, and a Political Treatise. But he seems to have
been dissatisfied with his translation, and destroyed what he
had done. The Hebrew Grammar remained unfinished, so
did the Political Treatise, which, however, was much nearer
completion. He has also left an essay On the Rainbow and
another On the Calculation of Chances. Very likely he did
not begin to write all or any of these while he was still
occupied with his Ethics. But he must have been preparing
for them, and we are told that at times he was so hard at
work that he did not leave his room for days, nor go out of
the house for three months at a stretch.

In the meantime black clouds were gathering in the poli
tical atmosphere, and a storm was preparing to burst upon
the heads of the de Witts and their friends.

Reference has already been made to the war between
England and Holland in 1665. That war was concluded in

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxxv

1667, when England was induced to come to terms partly
by de Ruyter s daring and successful expedition to Chatham
(when the sound of Dutch guns was heard in London), but
even more so by the intervention of Louis XIV., who took
sides with the Netherlands. Soon afterwards, however,
Louis XIV. revived his claims to the Spanish Netherlands
(Belgium) and led an army there. The Dutch grew alarmed.
It was good to have Louis XIV. for a friend, but it was
dangerous to have him for a neighbour. Jan de Witt
accordingly sought for a means of checking French pre
tensions, and succeeded in doing so by means of the Triple
Alliance between the Netherlands, England and Sweden.
This was in 1668. Louis XIV. meant to be revenged on
de Witt. First he started a tariff war with the Netherlands,
next he bribed Charles II. (by the Secret Treaty of Dover,
1671), and, in 1672, England and France declared war
against the Netherlands, and a French army of 120,000 men
invaded the totally unprepared United Provinces. For
some time past there had been a growing conspiracy in
favour of the young Prince of Orange and against Jan de
Witt, who had done his utmost to keep him from power,
especially by engineering the " Perpetual Edict " of 1667,
which decreed that no Captain-General or Admiral-General
of the United Provinces could at the same time be Stadt-
holder of a province. The conspiracy now came to a
sudden head. There was a cry for the Prince of Orange to
take the field and deliver the country as his father had
done. The " Perpetual Edict " was swept aside, and its
author was not forgotten on the day of reckoning. With
the country unprepared, and the enemy carrying all before
them, the populace was easily stirred to uncontrollable fury,
which had to find vent on a scapegoat. After vain attempts
to procure their judicial murder, the mob broke into the
prison, at the Hague, while Jan de Witt was visiting his
brother Cornelis there, and murdered the two brothers in

Ixxxvi INTRODUCTION

the most brutal fashion. This happened on the 2oth of
August 1672. More than twenty years of the most devoted
and able service to the Republic was forgotten in the
moment of wrath, and the Prince of Orange, William III.
(the future King of England), was not altogether guiltless of
the crime.

When Spinoza heard of the horrible tragedy he was quite
beside himself. His usual philosophic calm entirely deserted
him. He burst into tears, and, distracted with grief and
anger, he wrote on a placard his utter abhorrence of "the
very lowest of barbarians " who had committed the iniquitous
murder. He wanted to go out and post his denunciation
near the scene of the crime. Fortunately, Van der Spyck
was more discreet. He locked the door, so that Spinoza
could not get out to share the fate of the de Witts.

Some time after these terrible events the heirs of Jan de
Witt showed some hesitation about continuing Spinoza s
pension. Some of the philosopher s friends, when they
heard of it, urged him to enforce his legal claims on the
strength of the written promise which he possessed. But
Spinoza simply returned that document to de Witt s heirs,
without any comment. Impressed by his conduct, they
continued his pension without any more ado.

The war between France and Holland proved fatal to yet
another friend of Spinoza. His old teacher, Van den Enden,
had been compelled to leave Amsterdam some years before
these events. For a time he stayed in Antwerp, and then
settled in Paris. Here his desire to help his own country at
that critical period led him to join in a conspiracy to betray
Quillebceuf to the Dutch, and to raise a rebellion in Nor
mandy. All this would, of course, have greatly helped the
Netherlands in their struggle with Louis XIV. But the
conspiracy was discovered, and Van den Enden was be
headed in front of the Bastille in November 1674. Such
was the tragic end of the man who had befriended Spinoza

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxxvii

in the early days of his struggle, and who had contributed
not a little towards the early development of his scientific
thinking.

The war with France had yet further consequences in
store for Spinoza. In 1673 the French army under Prince
Conde was encamping at Utrecht, and among the officers
there was a Colonel Stoupe, who was in charge of a Swiss
regiment. Stoupe was an ex-parson, well read, but an
adventurer. Conde was a man of liberal views, and inte
rested in art, science, and philosophy. And during their
enforced idleness at Utrecht, Stoupe suggested that as
Spinoza (already famous as the author of the geometric
version of Descartes Principia, and much more so as the
author of the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus) lived quite near,
at the Hague, it would be interesting to get to know him.
Conde accordingly sent, through Stoupe, an invitation to
Spinoza to visit him at Utrecht. What induced Stoupe
to seek the acquaintance of Spinoza seems fairly clear.
Though a Calvinist, and at one time a minister of his reli
gion, he had brought a regiment of Swiss soldiers to the
service of Catholic France against the Calvinist Netherlands.
The fact is that he was just an unscrupulous adventurer ;
at heart (as Bishop Burnet has said of him) he was neither
a Protestant nor a Christian, but a man of intrigue and of
no virtue. But he was anxious to keep up appearances,
and when a countryman of his took him severely to task for
helping the Catholics against his own fellow-Calvinists, he
tried to defend himself by suggesting that the majority of
the Dutch were not Calvinists at all, but heretics of the
blackest dye. In a pamphlet which he published about
September 1673, he refers to Spinoza as a bad Jew and worse
Christian, who had written a treatise with the aim of de
stroying all religion and establishing atheism. This book
(he added) was, nevertheless, openly sold and widely read,
and no Dutchman has taken the trouble to refute it, while

Ixxxviii INTRODUCTION

its author was, in fact, much sought after by learned men
and fashionable ladies, and so on. The object of the invi
tation to Spinoza, so far as Stoupe was concerned, was
therefore simply to get what information he could that
might be turned to account for his self-defence. And such
were the terms in which he described Spinoza apparently
at the very time when he professed the greatest regard for
him !

Spinoza, on the other hand, a dreamer by birth, probably
saw in this invitation from Prince Conde a possible opening
for peace negotiations, and was anxious to do his duty. He
seems to have consulted some people in authority, and
whatever they may have thought about it privately, they
could certainly see no harm in Spinoza s errand. And so,
armed with the necessary safe-conducts, Spinoza made his
way to Utrecht in May 1673. He was well received by
Count Luxemburg, on behalf of Prince Conde, who had in
the meantime been called away, and he was invited to stay
there and await the Prince s return. Spinoza s intercourse
with the Count, with Stoupe and others there, seems to
have been of the friendliest kind, and it is known that he
made a very good impression. But when, after waiting
several weeks, the news arrived that Conde could not return,
Spinoza took his departure. He had been offered a pension
if he would dedicate a book to Louis XIV. ; but Spinoza
was not Stoupe he was not ready to serve any master
for hire. He declined the request, and returned to the
Hague.

The people at the Hague had, in the meantime, got wind
of Spinoza s visit to the enemy s camp. With mob charity
they could give but one meaning to this Spinoza was a
spy. When, therefore, he arrived at the Hague, scowls and
stones greeted his return, and Van der Spyck was afraid that
the mob would break into the house. Spinoza, however,
begged him not to be afraid. " I am innocent," he said,

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA Ixxxix

"and some of our leading statesmen know why I went to
Utrecht. As soon as the people make any noise, I shall go
out to them, even if they should do to me what they did to
the good de Witts. I am a good Republican, and my desire
is the good of the Republic." Apparently Spinoza s frank
and fearless bearing in the moment of danger reassured the
suspicious people, and he escaped without harm.

The invitation from Prince Conde was not the only
compliment paid to Spinoza that year. A more important
invitation had reached him in February. It came from the
Elector Palatine, Karl Ludwig, the brother of the Princess
Elizabeth, who had befriended Descartes. The Elector
offered him the Professorship of Philosophy at the
University of Heidelberg. The invitation certainly had
considerable attractions, and Spinoza considered it for
about six weeks. But, in the first place, he could not make
up his mind to become a public teacher after all these years
of habitual quietude and retirement. In the second place,
he had misgivings about the statement made in the
invitation concerning the Prince s confidence that Spinoza
would not misuse his freedom in philosophical teaching to
disturb the public religion. " I do not know [Spinoza
wrote] the limits within which the freedom of my philo
sophical teaching would be confined, if I am to avoid all
appearance of disturbing the publicly established religion.
Religious quarrels do not arise so much from ardent zeal
for religion as from men s various dispositions, and the love
of contradiction which makes them habitually distort and
condemn everything. ... I have experienced these things
in my private and secluded life, how much more should I
have to fear them after my promotion to this post of honour."
So he acknowledged gracefully the Prince s liberality in
offering him the Professorship, and declined it with thanks.
There can be no doubt that it was the wisest course, for,
besides the reasons stated by Spinoza himself, it must be

ff

xc INTRODUCTION

remembered that he could scarcely tear himself away from
his numerous friends in Holland, and that the course of
events in his fatherland (as his political writings show)
touched him too closely to permit of his going abroad in
that critical period. Moreover, though he may not have
anticipated quite such an early end as befell him (he died
four years afterwards), yet with his state of consumption he
could scarcely expect to grow old.

That Spinoza had a large circle of friends and ac
quaintances there can be no doubt, though the ascendency
of the orthodox and the evil repute of his views compelled
people, from sheer prudence, to keep quiet about their
knowledge and admiration of him. One of his most devoted
friends at the Hague was a Dr. J. M. Lucas, a medical
practitioner, who subsequently wrote the oldest extant
biography of Spinoza, which breathes the most ardent
attachment to the philosopher. Another of his medical
friends was Dr. G. H. Schuller, who practised medicine at
Amsterdam, but also devoted much time to alchemy and
philosophy. It was Schuller who brought Spinoza into
contact with one of the most promising of the younger
scientists, Tschirnhaus, and, through him, also with the
most eminent philosopher of the next generation Leibniz.
Tschirnhaus was a young German Count who had studied
at Leyden. In 1674 he made the acquaintance of Schuller
at Amsterdam. Having studied Descartes, he was interested
to hear all about Spinoza, with whom he soon started a cor
respondence, and also came into personal contact towards
the end of the same year. In the following summer, 1675,
he visited London, where he met Oldenburg and Boyle.
He also visited Paris in the same year, and, on the advice
of Spinoza, called on Christian Huygens, who had settled in
Paris since 1667, and (it is interesting to compare) had
continued to enjoy the profitable patronage of Louis XIV.
even during the years of disaster which that King had

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xci

inflicted on the Netherlands, while Spinoza had declined
even to dedicate a book to him for the sake of a pension.
The still interesting correspondence between Spinoza and
Tschirnhaus lasted about two years. In 1683 Tschirnhaus
published his De Medicina Mentis, dealing with the same
problem as Spinoza s Treatise on the Improvement of the
Understanding, and borrowing some of its ideas. But
prudence prevented him from mentioning Spinoza, to whom
he simply referred as quidam (somebody).

Incidentally Tschirnhaus s visit to London led to a re
sumption of the correspondence between Oldenburg and
Spinoza, which seems to have been dropped since 1665.
Spinoza had sent a copy of his TractatusTheologico-Politicus
to Oldenburg, who felt rather shocked by its heterodox
views, and expressed himself accordingly in a letter which
may not have reached Spinoza, but which, in any case,
would probably not have brought about a renewal of their
correspondence. The account, however, which Tschirnhaus
gave of Spinoza and his views seems to have produced a
conciliatory effect on Oldenburg, who thereupon wrote
another letter to Spinoza, saying that " a closer consideration
of the whole subject had convinced him that he (Spinoza)
was far from attempting any injury to true religion and
sound philosophy." Spinoza, who had taken no notice of
the various "refutations" of his treatise published by
various people, was nevertheless anxious to know, and to
discuss carefully, the objections which Oldenburg or,
indeed, any reasonable people had to bring against his
views. In the course of his increasingly stiff letters, it turns
out that Oldenburg objected to the entire system of
Spinoza s philosophy, and that what he wished Spinoza to
do was nothing less than to write a kind of philosophic
apologetic of orthodox Christianity ! Spinoza may well
have wondered whether Oldenburg was guilty of stupidity
or of hypocrisy.

xcii INTRODUCTION

In the meantime Spinoza had finished his Ethics, and was
contemplating its immediate publication. He mentioned
this to Oldenburg in a letter written at the end of June
1675. Oldenburg replied that he " will not object to receiv
ing a few copies of the said treatise " to dispose of among
his friends, but asked him to send them in such a way that
no one may know of it, and begged him " not to insert any
passages which may seem to discourage the practice of
religion and virtue."

About the end of July 1676 Spinoza went to Amsterdam
to arrange for the publication of the Ethica. What happened
there is best told in Spinoza s own words. " While I was
negotiating [he writes to Oldenburg] a rumour gained
currency that I had in the press a book concerning God,
wherein I endeavoured to show that there is no God.
This report was believed by many. Thereupon certain
theologians, perhaps the authors of the rumour, took
occasion to complain of me before the Prince and the
Magistrates. Moreover, the stupid Cartesians, being
suspected of favouring me, endeavoured to remove the
aspersion by abusing everywhere my opinions and writings,
a course which they still pursue. When I became aware of
this through trustworthy men, who also assured me that
the theologians were everywhere lying in wait for me, I
determined to put off publishing till I saw how things were
going. . . . But matters seem to get worse and worse, and
I am still uncertain what to do."

Oldenburg must have felt intensely relieved by the news
that the publication of the Ethica had been indefinitely
postponed. The poor man had changed indeed. In his
early days, hearing of Spinoza s hesitation to publish the
equally unorthodox Short Treatise, he had begged Spinoza
to ignore the " petty theologians" and to publish. "Come,
good sir [he then said], castaway all fear of exciting against
you the pigmies of our time. Long enough have we sacri-

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xcii i

ficed to ignorance and pedantry. Let us spread the sails of
true knowledge, and explore the recesses of nature more
thoroughly than heretofore." He had grown nervous,
almost stupidly nervous, since then. It must be remem
bered, however, that he had learned an unpleasant lesson
in the Tower of London, in 1667, that he was never really a
profound thinker, and that his environment, though scien
tific, was none too enlightened, Robert Boyle, for instance,
regarded his escape from a certain thunderstorm as due to
miraculous interposition, and one may well believe that he
had strange opinions about the author of the Tractatus
Theologico-Politicm, as Tschirnhaus relates. Perhaps it
was this very treatise (coupled with " the shades of doubt
which," as he confessed, " did sometimes cross his mind ")
that first suggested to him the idea of founding the Boyle
Lectures for the vindication of Christianity. And Olden
burg was sufficiently under the influence of Boyle not only
to suspect Spinoza s philosophy, which was defensible
enough, but even to suspect his motives, which was quite
indefensible, and which Spinoza certainly resented.

The Ethica, then, had to be laid aside, and it was not
destined to be published during the author s lifetime.
Spinoza now applied himself to the other writings, which
have already been enumerated above. The Tractatus Poli-
ticus must have engaged most of his attention and interest.
From one point of view it was a fine tribute to the memory
of that eminent statesman Jan de Witt, whose conduct of
affairs received here its fullest philosophical justification.
Moreover that liberal regime was rapidly passing away, as
Spinoza had good reason to know. The Dutch had arrived
at the parting of the ways, and showed a marked tendency
to leave the republican highway for the path of monarchy.
Like Samuel of old, he was determined solemnly to warn his
countrymen. But, above all, he wanted to set before them
a vivid exposition of the great principles of all true states-

xciv INTRODUCTION

manship, the supreme ideal of all statecraft. That ideal
was the perfection of the individual citizen. This was only
attainable where there was security and freedom. And the
supreme duty of the State was to secure these two conditions.
Democracy was the best form of government. The ideal,
however, may also be approached under other forms of
government. But whatever the external form may be (and
Spinoza must have realised his country s almost irrevocable
drift towards monarchy), let not the true ideal be forgotten.
The Political Treatise was the " Ethical Will and Testament "
which Spinoza left for his country ; and it was a dying hand
that wrote it, too late to finish it.

Four months before his death Spinoza made the personal
acquaintance of Leibniz. About eight years before that
already Leibniz had read Spinoza s version of Descartes
Principia, and in 1671 he had sent him a copy of his " Notice
of the Progress of Optics." In return Spinoza sent him a
copy of his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus. This book was
already known to Leibniz, and had been described by him as
" an unbearably free-thinking book." But he did not know
till then who its author was, nor did his teacher, Professor
Thomas, who had written a " refutation " of it. Leibniz
wanted to communicate his discovery to his teacher, with
out, however, disclosing more than his diplomacy dictated.
" The author of the book," he wrote, " is Benedict Spinoza,
a Jew (my Dutch friends write me word) expelled from the
Synagogue for his monstrous opinions, but a man of
universal learning, and especially eminent in Optics, and
in the construction of very fine telescopes." In 1675
Leibniz was in Paris, and there he met Tschirnhaus, who
had read a manuscript copy of Spinoza s Ethics, and now
communicated some of Spinoza s views to Leibniz.
Leibniz grew eager to read the Ethics for himself, and
Tschirnhaus wrote to Dr. Schuller to obtain Spinoza s
permission to show Leibniz a copy of the Ethics. But

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xcv

Spinoza declined. He had no faith in Leibniz, and his
distrust was not unfounded. " What [asked Spinoza] takes
Leibniz away from Frankfort, and what is he doing in
Paris ? " Spinoza had reason to suspect that Leibniz was
on a mission for the reunion of Protestants and Catholics,
which would lead to a joint effort to repress all liberal
tendencies, and to suppress freedom of thought and speech,
which were so near to his heart. Leibniz s attitude towards
these things was certainly unlike Spinoza s, and his subse
quent behaviour towards Spinoza rather justified that in
stinctive distrust with which Spinoza at first met him. But
when Leibniz came to the Hague, in the autumn of 1676,
Spinoza s distrust and reserve vanished. Leibniz frequently
visited Spinoza in his humble lodgings, and there (as he
himself has left on record) " conversed with him often and
at great length." He also obtained a first-hand knowledge
of Spinoza s Ethics then. During the years which followed
Leibniz devoted close attention to the philosophy of Spinoza,
and even assimilated some of his ideas, but there was a
remarkable lack of common generosity, not to say common
honesty, both in the way in which he generally avoided all
reference to Spinoza, and also in the tone of his remarks
when on rare occasions he did refer to him.

Spinoza s days were ending fast. Dr. Schuller, writing to
Leibniz on the 6th February, 1677, expresses his fear that
Spinoza would not remain much longer among them, as his
consumption was growing worse from day to day. He
was only forty-four years of age, but his constitution was
enfeebled through hereditary consumption, aggravated by
the glass-dust from the lenses, and the sedentary habits of
the student. And he had lived strenuous days. To the very
last he was up and doing. On Saturday afternoon the 2oth
February 1677, he was still downstairs chatting with the
Van der Spycks, But he had already sent for Dr. Schuller,
and retired early to bed. On the Sunday morning Dr.

xcvi INTRODUCTION

Schuller arrived. Spinoza was up ; and at midday had some
chicken-broth which the doctor had ordered for him. There
seemed to be no immediate danger, and the Van der Spycks
went to church in the afternoon. On their way home
they were informed that Spinoza was no more. He had
passed away at three o clock, in the presence of Dr. Schuller.

Four days later Spinoza was buried in the New Church
on the Spuy, which is quite near to the Paviljoensgragt.
Six coaches followed the cortege, and many prominent
people followed him to his last resting-place, which was
close to that of Jan de Witt. Of wordly possessions he left
very little behind him, and that chiefly in the way of books.
Dr. Schuller took possession of some of the most valuable
of these, and even then there still remained about 160
works (some of them quite costly), the list of which has
fortunately been preserved ; and copies of nearly all of them
are now in the Spinoza Museum at Rijnsburg. The pro
ceeds of these, and of some lenses which he also left behind,
were just enough to defray all his debts and the cost of
burial though his grave was but a hired grave, and was
used again some years after his death.

In accordance with Spinoza s instructions, his desk, con
taining the manuscripts of his unpublished works, was
entrusted to the care of Jan Rieuwertsz, the Amsterdam book
seller. Immediate publication seemed to be dangerous for
publisher and editors ; and when they had the courage they
had not the money to proceed with the printing. For a
time they thought of selling the manuscript of the Ethica to
Leibniz, intending no doubt to apply the proceeds towards
the cost of printing it from one of their own copies of that
work. Schuller had already communicated with Leibniz
about it, but at the last moment some one at the Hague
came to the rescue, and as early as November 1677 Spinoza s
Opera Posthuma appeared in print. It consisted of one quarto
volume, and contained the Ethics, the Political Treatise, the
Treatise on the Improvement of the Understanding, the Letters,

STATUE OF SPINOZA AT THE HAGUE

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xcvii

and the Hebrew Grammar. All names and other means f
identification had been carefully removed from the corre
spondence ; the editors names, as also the name of the pub
lisher and the place of publication were not given ; and
only the initials of Spinoza (B. D. S.) appeared on the title-
page. The editors were Jelles (who appears to have written
the Preface), Meyer, and Schuller ; and the editorial work
seems to have been carried on secretly in one of the rooms
of the Orphan Asylum, which had just been established in
Amsterdam by some of Spinoza s Collegiant friends. It was
at this Orphan Asylum (which is still in existence) that some
of the originals of Spinoza s letters were subsequently dis
covered, with editorial pencil-notes on them.

Two hundred years later a remarkable contrast to this
secrecy was witnessed, when the whole learned world joined
in celebrating the memory of Spinoza. In 1880 his statue
was erected in the Hague, within view of both houses where
he had lived his last years. And a new, complete edition of
his works was published in 1882, containing a portrait espe
cially engraved from the painting in the library at Wolfen-
biittel, where Lessing, poet, philosopher, and champion of
the ill-used, had, nearly a century before that, taken the first
steps towards the due recognition of Spinoza. The tribute
paid to his memory was world-wide ; and it was well
deserved. For there is considerable truth in Heine s witty
saying that " all our modern philosophers, though often
perhaps unconsciously, see through the glasses which
Baruch Spinoza ground."

9. THE CHARACTER OF SPINOZA

In attempting to form an estimate of the character of
Spinoza, one should be guided by what is actually known
about him from the direct evidence of those who knew him
personally. There is a natural temptation to judge his

xcviii INTRODUCTION

personality by deductions from his views as seen through
one s own spectacles. But it is not too much to say that, of
the two alternative courses, it is far more safe to interpret the
philosophy of Spinoza in the light of what is independently
known about his life and character than to estimate his
character in the light of certain deductions from an inde
pendent interpretation of his views. During his lifetime
Spinoza was often condemned and vilified on the score of
his opinions, and on account of defects which, it was tacitly
assumed, these revealed in his character. There is reason
to believe that, but for his death, Spinoza s fate might
have been very much like that of Koerbagh. After his death,
it was considered a crime to say anything good about Spi
noza, and for more than a century afterwards his name was
anathema maranatha. Even people who were not too sensi
tive to his criticism of the Bible felt that a man who main
tained the relativity of good and evil, and believed in
universal necessity, had no incentive to be good, and, there
fore, was very likely bad. Such an interpretation and deduc
tion were, to say the least, very one-sided, and, towards the end
of the eighteenth century, its absurdity was exposed by the no
less one-sided view which, by laying exclusive stress on " the
intellectual love of God " and kindred doctrines of Spinoza,
transformed him into a " God-intoxicated" saint.

If we turn to the main facts of Spinoza s life, and to the
recorded judgments of the people who knew him personally,
there can be no doubt that Spinoza, though not a saint in
the accepted sense of the expression, was certainly one of
the finest characters of which the history of philosophy can
boast. The dominant feature in his character was his devo
tion to the pursuit of truth. For it he was ever ready to
make all sacrifices. Neither bribes nor threats could in any
way seduce him from that pursuit. And he readily sacri
ficed his personal comfort in order that he might have
money for books, and time for study. To him the pursuit

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA xcix

of truth was no mere pastime or trade it was the true life
of man. One might almost say that it constituted the
religion of Spinoza. Yet he was no mere intellectualist.
If his devotion to knowledge reminds one of the striking
utterances of his great medieval kinsman, Maimonides
(whose Guide of the Perplexed Spinoza read and possessed),
his moral earnestness re-echoes something of the voice of
the Prophets. Nothing offended him more than the sug
gestion that his views tended to discourage the practice of
virtue ; nothing outraged him more than the reading of
Homo Politicus, a book in which, from apparently Spinozistic
principles, maxims were deduced for the most selfish and
immoral conduct. Again and again he insisted on absolute
purity of motive even in the communication of views which
he regarded as absolutely true. When sending his Short
Treatise to his Amsterdam friends he begs of them to be
sure that nothing but the good of their neighbours will ever
induce them to communicate its doctrines to others. And
it was out of considerateness for his fellow-men that he
tried, as far as possible, not to unsettle their religious beliefs.
He assured the Van der Spycks that their religion was quite
good, and that they need have no misgivings whatever so
long as their conduct was good and upright. Good conduct
and pure motives, these were the most essential things, and,
devoted as he was to truth, he maintained that Turks and
heathens who did their duty and loved their fellow-men
were filled with the spirit of Christ, whom Spinoza regarded
as the highest type of manhood. Even in the professed
polemic of the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus he passes by
without criticism the less harmful of orthodox doctrines,
although he disagreed with them. But there was no dupli
city about him ; when men of education invited his views
on some of these very doctrines (such as the divinity of
Christ) he did not mince matters, but expressed his views
without any equivocation. His means for active benevo-

c INTRODUCTION

lence were not great. Still what little he possessed was
at the service of his friends. When informed that a con
siderable sum of money, which he had lent in this way, was
lost, he merely remarked quietly, and with a smile, that he
would have to draw in his expenses for the future. Wealth
and position had no undue attraction for him. He would
not for their sake bind or blind his judgment by accepting
the Heidelberg professorship, or even appear to do so by
paying a formal compliment to a monarch whose aims and
methods he condemned. In this respect he stood head and
shoulders above some of his most eminent contemporaries
in the world of science. But though of an independent
spirit he was neither proud nor cold and reserved. He
met half-way, and more, all people who offered him their
friendship. He showed wonderful patience with the most
mediocre people who turned to him with their difficulties ;
and he was kindly to the humblest. Amid all the accusa
tions brought against Spinoza, no specific charge was ever
made against his moral character. It was always his here
tical views, and his character as deduced a priori from these
views by the ingenuity of " learned parsons," that were flung
at his head. This is remarkable in itself, and is amply con
firmed by Colerus, the Lutheran pastor, who, though he
considered Spinoza s heresies to be abominable and most
outrageous, has nevertheless made it perfectly clear that
Spinoza s morals were unassailable. The peasants at Rijns-
burg and Voorburg, we are expressly told, agreed that he was
" a man whom it was good to know, kind, upright, obliging,
and of good morals." People of culture felt a peculiar charm
in his presence, and men of his own age, and even older
men, looked upon him with the respect of disciples. We
have seen already what impression he made on Oldenburg
and the Seigneur de St. Evremont when they came into per
sonal touch with him. The account which we have from Dr.
Lucas, who knew Spinoza intimately in the Hague, breathes

THE LIFE OF SPINOZA ci

a spirit of the utmost veneration. And many who have only
read his writings have felt themselves in the presence of an
uncommon moral atmosphere of utter unselfishness and
disinterestedness, and a boundless faith in human goodness.
Spinoza was not a saint. He did not believe in turning
the cheek to the smiter. Nor was he so other-worldly as to
despise the world and the flesh. He could say hard things
against insolent ignoramuses and heretic-hunters ; he never
quite forgot the wrong done to him by his kinsmen and
his tribe ; and, in the heat of conflict, he even forgot to
pause for a moment in order to acknowledge some of the
merits of the Law and the Prophets. He was human, and
was influenced by emotions to a far greater extent than is
supposed by those who exaggerate his intellectualism, be
cause they deduce his character from certain aspects of his
philosophy. He could be angry with immorality and in
tolerance, and he felt injured by unmerited suspicion. He
laughed to see divines excel the devil by their wiles ; and
he wept over the tragic fate of the de Witts. He was not
even an ascetic. Though extraordinarily abstemious in his
mode of life living on a few pence a day and with a pipe
for his only luxury this was mainly due to his circum
stances. His desire for independence and his devotion to
books made it impossible for him to earn sufficient to in
dulge in the ordinary comforts of life, and so abstemious
ness gradually became a habit with him. But he had no
contempt for the reasonable pleasures or joys of life. " I
enjoy life [he wrote] and try to live it, not in sorrow and
sighing, but in peace, joy, and cheerfulness." And those
who knew him have confirmed the truth of this. He could
not understand how any one could find, or imagine that
God would find, any virtue in sighs and tears, and the like.
" Nothing [he insists] but a gloomy and sad superstition for
bids enjoyment." Indeed, what he had, in the first instance,
sought in philosophy was guidance in the attainment of

cii INTRODUCTION

happiness. It was not, as in the case of Descartes, discontent
with the then state of knowledge that drove him to philosophy,
but discontent with the ordinary pursuits and pleasures of life,
because they failed to bring abiding happiness. This is evident
from the opening passage of his Treatise on the Improvement
of the Understanding, already quoted above. He had turned
to philosophy for guidance in the pursuit of happiness, and
found his happiness in the pursuit of philosophy.

On the other hand, there was certainly something of the
higher mysticism about Spinoza. It would be a mistake to
empty his religious terminology of all its religious meaning.
We are trenching here on a difficult question of interpreta
tion, and we do not wish to dogmatise. Still it should not
be forgotten that, though convinced of the truth of his
philosophy, Spinoza was far from supposing that it was the
whole truth. There were but few things, even in the world
of extension and thought, of which he professed to have
the highest kind of knowledge ; while, besides extension
and thought, there were infinite aspects of the universe (or
attributes of substance) of which he avowedly had no know
ledge whatever. He felt more than he saw. And though
he loved to live in the clear, common light of day, and
hated the bigotry and superstition that lurk in the shadows
of the twilight, yet he felt the glow of the presence that
dwells in the setting sun, even if he was not absorbed in visions
of a light that never shone on land or sea. It was some
thing of this mystic feeling that prompted his religious
language, and gave to his personality that charm which
won all who came near him. It also won for him the sym
pathy of poets like Goethe and Lessing, Coleridge and
Wordsworth, just as his calm scientific outlook has made
him a favourite with men of science. His moral ardour seems
almost aglow with this mystic fire, and, if we may not call
him a priest of the most high God, yet he was certainly a
prophet of the power which makes for righteousness.

HISTORY OF
THE SHORT TREATISE

i. THE DISCOVERY OF THE MANUSCRIPTS

THE Short Treatise was not published in the lifetime of
Spinoza, nor was it included in the Opera Posthuma pub
lished in November 1677, shortly after the death of Spinoza.
The writer of the Preface to the Opera Posthuma does not
even refer to it specifically. He alludes to the essay On the
Rainbow, of which he appears to have been unable to obtain
a copy, and which he believed to have been burned by
Spinoza. But, for the rest, he simply remarks in a general
sort of way that " although it is credible that some work of
our philosopher [Spinoza] may still be in the possession of
somebody or other without his knowledge, it may never
theless be assumed that nothing will be found therein
which is not already given repeatedly in these writings,"
that is, in the Ethics, the Political Treatise, the Treatise on
the Improvement of the Understanding, the Correspondence,
and the Hebrew Grammar, which between them constituted
the Opera Posthuma. Thus no reference is made to the Short
Treatise even as a possibly lost work of Spinoza. On the
other hand, it should be remembered that to the editors of
the Opera Posthuma, as indeed to Spinoza himself, the Short
Treatise appeared to have been superseded by the Ethics.
Hence the silence about the Short Treatise may not be so
strange after all, and one should not attach too much
importance to it. A report dating from 1703, the truth
of which there is no reason to doubt, tends to show that
J. Rieuwertsz (junior), the publisher of the Opera Posthuma,

ciii

civ INTRODUCTION

actually possessed a manuscript copy of what is now called
the Short Treatise, but which was then not unnaturally
regarded simply as an early draft of the Ethics.

In 1703, Gottlieb Stolle (1673-1744) a Silesian who was
appointed Professor of Political Science at Jena in 1717
and a Dr. Hallmann travelled through Holland, where they
interviewed various people who had known Spinoza. Among
others they saw Rieuwertsz at Amsterdam. Rieuwertsz gave
them some personal reminiscences of Spinoza, for whom (so
they relate) he showed uncommon affection, and, with tears
in his eyes, wished that Spinoza were still alive. Rieuwertsz
also showed them several manuscripts of Spinoza s works,
and among them was one apparently written in Spinoza s
own handwriting. This (according to Hallmann) was no
other than Spinoza s first, Dutch version of the Ethica ; it was
quite different from the published Ethica not worked out
in the geometric method, but in the ordinary way, and
divided into chapters, like the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus ;
Rieuwertsz assured them that the printed Ethica was very
much better than this manuscript version, though the latter
contained some things which were omitted from the former,
notably the chapter on the Devil. Several friends of
Spinoza, said Rieuwertsz, had copies of that manuscript,
which had never been printed because the Latin version,
which had been published, was altogether superior and had
been well edited. The story is not altogether free from
difficulties. But it undoubtedly gives us an explicit
reference to the so-called Short Treatise. Stolle and Hall-
mann s account of their travels, written in 1704, was not
published till 1847,* but Stolle repeated his information about
the Short Treatise in his Brief Introduction to the History of
Learning, which was published in 1718. The story about the
Dutch Ethics and the chapter on the Devil was repeated by

* Extracts from Stolle-Hallmann s Reisebeschreibung are given in Freu-
denthal s Die Lebensgeschichte Spinozas, pp. 221 #.

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cv

]. F. Reimmann (1668-1743) in his Catalogue of Theological
Books, which was published in 1731, also by ]. C. Mylius in
his Library of Anonymous and Pseudonymous Authors, which
was published in 1740. These notices, however, do not
seem to have attracted any attention. Spinoza had such an
evil reputation among respectable scholars (including Stolle
and Reimmann) that there was no anxiety to discover or
recover any of his unpublished works, the published ones
being considered more than enough. In the latter half of
the eighteenth century we observe, indeed, some signs of an
active interest in Spinoza remains. C. T. de Murr, of
Nurnberg, visited Holland in search of Spinoza relics. He
brought back with him a Latin manuscript copy of
Spinoza s notes to the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, and a
report that Spinoza s Ethica was originally written in Dutch
and contained a chapter on the Devil, that he then trans
lated it into Latin, throwing it at the same time into
geometric form, owing to which and other alterations it
was retranslated from the Latin into Dutch by Jarig Jelles.
For about a century the matter rested there.

In 1851 Edward Boehmer, Professor of Philosophy at
Halle, went to Holland, also in search of Spinoza rarities.
At Amsterdam he bought from F. Miiller, a well-known
bookseller there, a copy of the Life of Spinoza by Colerus.
Section 12 of Colerus Life of Spinoza treats very briefly of
the philosopher s unpublished writings, and Boehmer s
copy had a manuscript note (in Dutch) to this section,
saying that among certain votaries of philosophy there was
still extant, in manuscript, a treatise of Spinoza, which
treats of the same subjects as the printed Ethica, though
not in the geometric method, and that its style and general
drift show it to be one of the earliest of Spinoza s writings,
in fact the first draft of the Ethica, and for some people
less obscure than this, just because it is not cast in the
geometric form, except to a very small extent in the

h

cvi INTRODUCTION

Appendix to the treatise. And at the end of the same copy
of Colerus Life of Spinoza there actually followed a fairly
complete analysis of the Short Treatise, chapter by chapter,
and written in the same hand as the note to section 12.
Boehmer published his Benedicti de Spinoza Tractatus de
Deo et Homine ejusque Felicitate Lineamenta in 1852, and a
new impetus was given to the search for the Short Treatise.
Not long afterwards a manuscript copy of the Short
Treatise itself came to light. F. Miiller, the same bookseller
from whom Boehmer had got his copy of the Colerus,
bought this manuscript of the Short Treatise at an auction.
And while Dr. J. van Vloten was preparing to publish it
together with some Spinoza letters, which had been dis
covered at the Collegiant Orphan Asylum in Amsterdam, a
second (and older) manuscript of the Short Treatise was
discovered. The poet, Adrian Bogaers, of Rotterdam,
found it among his books. This (the older) manuscript is
generally referred to as codex A, the other as codex B.
The first edition of the Short Treatise was published, in
1862, by Dr. ]. van Vloten in his Ad Benedicti de Spinoza
Opera qucz Supersunt Omnia Supplementum. It was based
on both the manuscripts, and was accompanied by a Latin
translation. A more careful edition of codex A was
published in 1869 by Professor C. Schaarschmidt, of Bonn,
and also by Van Vloten and Land in their editions of the
complete works of Spinoza (1882, 1895.) Both manuscripts
are now in the Royal Library at the Hague.

2. THE HISTORY OF THE MANUSCRIPTS

When Codex B was discovered it was found that the
handwriting was the same as that of the notes and " out
line " in Boehmer s copy of Colerus Life of Spinoza, and

J ><Vt_ t^i^voGi^e^^ eV^^<^fcc>n

^r-cC v ^\.1& a t!A,&*5

rs.

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cix

Dr. Antonius van der Linde had already shown that the
handwriting in Boehmer s Colerus was precisely the same
as that of various manuscripts which were known to have
been copied by Johannes Monnikhoff, an Amsterdam doctor
who was born in 1707 and died in 1787. Preceding the
Short Treatise in codex B is a long introduction in which
reference is made to the year 1743, so that this copy could
not have been written before then. The same codex also
contains, at the end, Notes to the Tractatus Theologico-
Politicus, all of them in the same handwriting. The Intro
duction seems to be the composition of Monnikhoff, while
the Short Treatise and the Notes were evidently copied by
him. That the handwriting is that of Monnikhoff is certain
from the fact that several manuscripts, at the Hague Library,
written in exactly the same hand have introductions which
are signed by him. We reproduce from one of these
manuscripts a facsimile of some verses signed by Johannes
Monnikhoff, for comparison with the facsimiles of several
pages from codex B. According to F. Miiller, the book
seller who discovered it, codex B of the Short Treatise
accompanied a Dutch manuscript translation of Spinoza s
version of Descartes Principia. But of this there is no
sign in the parchment-bound quarto volume which contains
simply an Introduction on the life and writings of Spinoza,
the Short Treatise, and the Notes to the Tractatus Theologico-
Politicus no more. On the back of the volume, however,
the title is obviously incomplete. It says

Benedictus
Posthumous

and there is evidently missing a second volume having on
its back the rest of the whole title, namely :

Benedictus
Posthumous

De Spinoza
Works.

ex INTRODUCTION

This is highly probable, because in another two-volume
manuscript copied also by Monnikhoff the title of the work
is similarly spread over the backs of the two volumes. And
it is possible that the missing volume may have contained
the Principia, or perhaps some other work, since the Prin-
cipia was already published, in Dutch as well as in Latin.
The Introduction in codex B, it is interesting to note, gives
also a summary of the Short Treatise which is practically
identical with the " Outline " in Boehmer s copy of
Colerus.

Codex A is a much thicker quarto volume, and contains
the Short Treatise, the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, and
the Notes to it, all in Dutch, but the Notes are not in the
same handwriting as the rest of the volume. A is evidently
older than B, as may be seen from the very handwriting,
which belongs to the seventeenth century, and is much
more faded. Moreover, even a cursory inspection reveals
the fact that the writer who had copied B had also been
busy with A, which contains numerous, though mostly
unimportant, additions in the same handwriting as B. For
instance, at the beginning of the whole volume there is the
following title-page in Monnikhoff s writing

" The Writings of Benedict de Spinoza, comprising

" I. A Treatise on God, Man and his Well-being.
"II. A Theologico-Political Treatise.

" Both of them with the Notes of the Author, and translated
from the Latin."

Separate title-pages in the same writing also precede the
Tractatus Theologico-Politicus and the Notes. Again, follow
ing the Table of Contents, there is a portrait of Spinoza
apparently inserted there by Monnikhoff, who may have
taken it from a copy of the 1677 edition of the Opera
Posthuma, and facing it (on the left) are some well-meaning

kiibL3^

[PAGE 14 IN A]

c / -

ejL*A-=^z.

lr^n^&Z.Q

, t^JUV^tn^^-^/i^.
c>-vu.d-c>T__ ^CoxA e-cxMxv^

[PAGE 23 IN B]

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cxv

lines on the portrait,* and both the writing and the thought
are extremely like those of the other verses signed by
Monnikhoff, of which a facsimile has already been
given. There are also numerous page-headings, chapter-
headings, and cross-references in MonnikhorFs writing.
Occasionally he also inserted a word in the text, or re-
copied an illegible note, as may be seen from the accom
panying facsimile, where the illegible marginal note in the
original handwriting is seen crossed out and rewritten by
Monnikhoff as a foot-note. The corresponding passage
from B is also reproduced for comparison.

It is clear, therefore, that codex A is older than B, and
that the copyist who wrote out B also knew and used A.
But when and by whom was A written ? The writing, as
already remarked, belongs to the seventeenth century. But
it was certainly not written out by Spinoza himself. This is
obvious already from the title-page, where we are distinctly
told (in the same writing as the bulk of the manuscript) that
the Short Treatise was originally composed in Latin, and
that it was translated for some of Spinoza s disciples ; and
the whole tone of this title-page (or preface, as it might be
called) is very unlike what we should expect from Spinoza.
Moreover, a reference to Spinoza s autograph t is quite
conclusive on this point. It has been suggested that codex
A was copied by William Deurhoff (? 1650-1717), a Dutch
theologian and a Cartesian. This suggestion derived con
siderable plausibility from the fact that the fairly numerous
other manuscripts copied by Monnikhoff were all of them
the works of Deurhoff MonnikhofFs signed verses, already
given above, actually occur in one such manuscript, and
face a portrait of Deurhoff. It seems, therefore, not un
natural to suppose that Monnikhoff copied codex B from

* Reproductions of the portrait and the verses are given at the com
mencement of the Translation (inserted between pp. 10 and n).
f See p. Ix.

cxvi INTRODUCTION

A, largely because this was in Deurhoff s handwriting. A
comparison with Deurhoff s authentic handwriting is, un
fortunately, impossible. The only authentic autograph of
Deurhoff that has been discovered so far consists of his
signature, written in 1685, and this seems to be insufficient
to go upon with certainty. Dr. W. Meyer, who has seen the
signature, thinks that it rather tends to disprove the con
jecture that A was copied by Deurhoff. And the tone of
the Preface on the title-page of A is also unfavourable to it,
because Deurhoff had no such admiration for Spinoza. On
the other hand, it may be reasonably supposed that codex A
was the property of Deurhoff, and that Monnikhoff obtained
it from him.

Dr. W. Meyer has made the interesting suggestion that
codex A was originally the property of Jarig Jelles perhaps
the very copy of the translations which he himself had
obtained of the Short Treatise and the Tractatus Theologico-
Politicus. Jarig Jelles was one of the oldest and warmest
friends of Spinoza, and had defrayed the cost of publishing
Spinoza s version of Descartes Principia, both the Latin
and the Dutch versions. Jelles, who was a spice merchant,
did not know Latin, and it may have been he who persuaded
Pieter Balling to translate Spinoza s Principia into Dutch
for that reason. It would appear that he also had the
Tractatus Theologico-Politicus translated into Dutch, and that
he was about to have it published in 1671. For, in a letter
addressed to Jelles in that year, Spinoza begs him to prevent
the publication of the Dutch translation of the Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus, as it might lead to the prohibition even
of the Latin edition. Accordingly, no Dutch translation of
this treatise appeared till 1693, and then another followed
in 1694. Now the Dutch version of the Theologico-Political
Treatise which is contained in codex A is not identical with
either of these two other translations, and it is most probably
earlier than 1694, because a new translation would hardly

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cxvii

be made after two others had already been published. Codex
A, moreover, bears some evidence of intended publication.
Dr. W. Meyer, therefore, suggests that the Dutch version
which is contained in A is the very same which was about to
be published in 1671, but was kept back at Spinoza s request.
And since the Short Treatise is in the same handwriting,
and to judge by the preface seems also to have been
intended for publication, Dr. Meyer supposes that Jelles
had this also translated into Dutch, and that he intended to
publish it together with the Tractatm Theologico-Politicus.
He even conjectures that the translations were made by
Dr. Lodewijk Meyer ; but there is no real evidence of this.

One is inclined to ask whether codex A may not be
identical with the manuscript which Rieuwertsz is reported
to have shown to Stolle and Hallmann in 1703. But the
terms of the report make it uncertain whether that manu
script purported to be in Spinoza s own handwriting or in
that of the bookseller s father. And, in any case, the state
ment, in the preface on the title-page, that the Short Treatise
was originally written in Latin, could scarcely have escaped
their eyes, and, since they undoubtedly report that the
manuscript was in Dutch just as Spinoza had at first com
posed it, the probability is that it was a different copy which
they then saw. There is no doubt, however, that manu
script copies of the Short Treatise were extant, among
various friends and readers of Spinoza, at the end of the
seventeenth century, and codex A is most likely one of
these manuscripts.

Both A and B, however, purport to be only translations,
or copies of a translation, from the Latin, and not copies of
a Dutch original. This is also confirmed by an examination
of the text of the manuscripts, which contains various
mistakes that can only be explained on the supposition that
they are mistranslations from the Latin. Some of these
will be indicated in the notes.

cxviii INTRODUCTION

Again, codex A cannot be the original copy even of a
translation, because it contains several mistakes which can
only be accounted for on the supposition that they are mis-
readings of Dutch words, writing (for example) alderwijste
(wisest) where the context requires aldervrijste (freest). And
codex B has far too much in common with A to be regarded,
with any plausibility, as giving an independent translation
of the Short Treatise. Prima facie the most plausible sup
position is that A is itself a copy of an older manuscript,
and that B is more or less a copy of A, and this suggestion
is in large measure also confirmed by more internal
evidence.

3. THE TWO MANUSCRIPTS COMPARED

In the main, both manuscripts give practically the same
translation of the Short Treatise, although there are numerous
minor differences, most of which are indicated in the
present translation. In neatness of appearance and smooth
ness of expression B is very much superior to A. In A
notes and additions to the text are found sometimes all
round the page top and bottom, and to the left and right
of the text. Sometimes it is difficult to know which is
meant to be text and which is meant to be the note. In B,
on the other hand, the arrangement is perfectly clear and
neat. Similar differences show themselves in the compo
sition of the two manuscripts. In A the punctuation is
sometimes absolutely barbarous there are whole strings of
colons and semi-colons, bringing together ideas which have
no real connection, while at other times full-stops dis
connect what should have been connected. Occasionally
also the trouble of translating technical expressions seems
to be shirked, and they are simply given in their Latin
form. All or nearly all such barbarisms are absent from

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cxix

B the punctuation is quite normal, and it generally trans
lates into Dutch, and does not simply reproduce, such
expressions as a priori, a posteriori, attributum, essentia, idea,
&c. Again, in A the second part of the Short Treatise has
numerous marginal summaries of the text, in addition to
the explanatory notes ; B omits nearly all these marginal
summaries, and also some of the notes. Apart from these
relatively external differences between the two codices,
there are also more important differences between them.
A often has a sentence or an expression which B omits ; on
the other hand, there are only a comparatively few cases in
which B has any important sentence or expression which A
has not. Again, A has numerous mistakes which are not
found in B ; on the other hand, there are extremely few
instances in which a passage is given correctly in A and
wrongly in B. Illustrations of all this will be found in the
accompanying translation and notes, though the punctua
tion had to be somewhat improved occasionally. But such,
in general terms, is the relation between the two manu
scripts of the Short Treatise.

What may reasonably be deduced from the above facts ?
Some (Schaarschmidt, for instance) are inclined to mini
mise the differences between A and B, and suggest that the
improvements on A in B were made more or less arbi
trarily by Monnikhoff, who had no other manuscript before
him except A, and that he was guided simply by his own
common sense or fastidious taste, as the case may be, in
making the numerous alterations in his own copy. A
great many of the differences between A and B might
certainly be accounted for in this way. Sigwart, however,
maintains that it is scarcely possible to account for all the
differences that way ; and he inclines to the belief (rightly,
we think) that Monnikhoff had some other manuscript,*
besides A, which enabled him to make so many improve-

* This hypothetical third MS. is generally called C.

cxx INTRODUCTION

ments on A. It seems clear, however, that the suggested
other manuscript (if Monnikhoff really had another to
consult) could not have been the original Latin manuscript
or a copy of it, because some of his mistakes would have
been impossible in that case. Nor, in all probability, was
it even an independent Dutch translation of the original,
because in that case B would most likely not have had so
very much in common with A as it actually has. That
Monnikhoff might have consulted another Dutch manu
script of the Short Treatise (besides A) seems likely from the
fact that Rieuwertsz, for instance, had such another Dutch
manuscript (as Hallmann reports), and there may have been
also others in Amsterdam, where Monnikhoff lived. At the
same time, it is just possible that Monnikhoff had only
codex A before him, and that his own critical insight enabled
him to make the various corrections and improvements.

4. THE COMPONENT PARTS OF THE
SHORT TREATISE

Even a cursory examination of the Short Treatise shows
that it is not a homogeneous whole, bat a complex of parts
in which a closer scrutiny reveals different strata of thought
representing different stages of development. Compara
tively external differences suffice to enable us to distinguish
four separate parts in the Short Treatise, namely :

(i) the bulk of the text of the treatise (both parts) ;

(ii) the so-called foot-notes or marginal additions ;
(Hi) the two dialogues at the end of Part I . chapter ii. ; and
(iv) the so-called Appendices at the end of the treatise.

It may be remarked at once that no one seriously
doubts that the Short Treatise as a whole is the work of

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cxxi

Spinoza. The only portions the authenticity of which may
be doubted are some of the notes. Many of the notes to
Part II. in A are evidently mere marginal summaries which
were not made by Spinoza, and nearly all of them were
omitted by Monnikhoff, no doubt for this very reason.
They have also been omitted from all the published
editions and translations of the Short Treatise. Some of the
remaining notes (or additions) are also probably from some
other hand than Spinoza s, and so is the preface on the
title-page of A. Most of the long notes, however, are
certainly Spinoza s own, and Monnikhoff says so expressly
on the extra title-page which he wrote in codex A (which
has already been cited above), while the "Outline" in
Boehmer s Colerus states explicitly that Spinoza had added
notes in further explanation and elaboration of his views.
And the rest of the Short Treatise is Spinoza s beyond a
doubt. The above-mentioned traditions about his Dutch
Ethics with a chapter on the Devil, and passages in his
letters, to which we shall refer when we try to determine the
date of its composition, sufficiently confirm the authorship
of Spinoza which is claimed on the title-page of both the
manuscripts.

But, though Spinoza wrote the whole of the Short
Treatise (excepting the suspicious notes) as we now have
it, he evidently did not write it all at the same time. What
we have before us is a first draft together with successive
attempts to correct, or supplement, or reconcile various
parts of it. The bulk of the text represents that first draft.
The chapters are strung together more or less loosely ;
inconsistencies of thought or of expression are not yet
removed. Some of the so-called notes or marginal additions
are really new versions of the corresponding text, which
Spinoza apparently meant to rewrite. They often represent
a distinct advance in thought, bridging over the gulf be
tween the text of the Treatise and the Ethics. The Dialogues

cxxii INTRODUCTION

elaborate special points, while assuming what has already
been explained in other parts of the Treatise. Like the first
Appendix, they also represent an experiment in the form of
exposition. Spinoza evidently realised very quickly that his
was not the art of writing Platonic dialogues. The second
Appendix is concerned with the elaboration of a special
point. The first, as already stated, is an experiment in the
geometric form of exposition, and is intimately related to
the Ethics. The Treatise shows us Spinoza in his workshop
gradually shaping the material for his great edifice. It is,
of course, all the more interesting for that. But it is prac
tically impossible to determine precisely the chronological
sequence of its parts. At one time it was supposed that the
Dialogues were the oldest parts of the Treatise. Freuden-
thal, however, has shown that they must have been written
after the main text of the Treatise because they assume a
knowledge of various views already explained in other parts
of the work. Thus all that may be asserted with confidence
is that the notes, the Dialogues, and the Appendices are
later than the rest of the Treatise. It is also possible to
determine which parts of the work were the last additions.
Detailed information relating to these questions will be
found in the Commentary. But it is important to note
immediately that we are dealing with a book which was
never properly prepared for publication, Spinoza having
finally determined to recast the exposition of his philosophy
in the geometric form, as we have it in the Ethics. The
present arrangement of the Treatise is probably due in part
to one of his disciples, whose insight was not sufficient to
guard him against misplacing some parts, omitting others,
and retaining passages which were meant to be discarded.
Occasionally also readers comments seem to have found
their way into the text through the copyist s lack of dis
crimination.

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cxxiii

5. THE ORIGIN AND CHARACTER OF THE
SHORT TREATISE

It is difficult to determine with any precision when the
Short Treatise was begun, but it is comparatively easy to
determine when it was already completed. About the end
of 1661 Spinoza wrote to Oldenburg, saying, "as regards
your new question, namely, in what manner things began
to exist, and what is the bond of dependence between them
and the first cause, on this subject, and also on the improve
ment of the understanding, I have written a complete little
treatise, and am at present engaged in copying and improv
ing it. Sometimes, however, I put the work aside, for I am
not yet sure about publishing it. I fear lest the theologians
of our day should take offence, and, with their usual
rancour, attack me, who have an absolute horror of
quarrels." It is clear from this that the Treatise on the
Improvement of the Understanding was already sufficiently
advanced for Spinoza to think of its early publication. But
this cannot be the only treatise to which Spinoza here refers,
because it contains nothing about the origin of things and
their dependence on the first cause, with which this little
treatise, to which Spinoza refers, is primarily concerned,
nor does it contain anything to warrant Spinoza s evident
apprehension that it would provoke the rancour of the
theologians. Spinoza can only be referring, in this letter,
to our Short Treatise, the style and contents of which prove
it to be an earlier work than the Treatise on the Improvement
of the Understanding. The Short Treatise must have been
already finished when Spinoza wrote the above letter to
Oldenburg, but owing to his recent occupation with Bacon
and the question of philosophic method, which he had also
discussed with Oldenburg, he seems to have begun the
Treatise on the Improvement of the Understanding with the

i 2

cxxiv INTRODUCTION

intention of using it as a general introduction to his whole
philosophy as contained for the most part in the Short
Treatise. The opening passages of the former treatise,
already quoted above,* are hardly appropriate as an
introduction to a mere theory of knowledge, they refer
rather to philosophy as a whole. Spinoza s growing pre
ference for the geometric method, and his successful
experiment in applying it to Descartes Principia, also the
gradual modification of some of his views, soon led him to
begin a new exposition of his philosophy, such as he even
tually gave in the Ethica. And the Short Treatise thus fell
into neglect. But there can be no doubt that it was already
completed in 1661, possibly already the year before, if we
allow for the Treatise on the Improvement of the Understand
ing, which, though a fragment now and probably even more
fragmentary then, must nevertheless have taken him some
time to write.

The main text of the Short Treatise, then, must have been
written not later than 1661. It seems equally clear that it
could not have been finished before 1660 that is to say,
before Spinoza s removal to Rijnsburg. The reason for this
suggestion is to be found in the concluding paragraph of
the Second Part of the Treatise^ It is really an epistle
addressed to his friends, to whom he is sending the
entire manuscript of the Short Treatise (before the
Appendices were written). And its tone and contents
strongly suggest that it was written to friends at a distance.
Who these friends were it is not difficult to conjecture.
They were Balling, Jelles, Meyer, and the other members of
the philosophical coterie to whom Spinoza subsequently
also sent the completed portions of the Ethica in manu
script. His friends, then, were in Amsterdam. Had
Spinoza still been living in or near Amsterdam, it would
scarcely have been necessary for him to write that exhor-

* See pp. liii. ff. f See pp. 149 /.

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cxxv

tation. It must, therefore, have been written when
Spinoza had already left Amsterdam and its neighbour
hood, and had gone to Rijnsburg. And this happened
early in 1660.

We would maintain, accordingly, that the Short Treatise
was not finished before 1660. But, as already suggested, it
was probably commenced very much earlier than that.
Many or most of its chapters very likely contain the sub
stance of the notes which Spinoza dictated to his disciples
while teaching at Amsterdam. This seems to be borne out,
to some extent, by a marginal summary at the side of the
above-mentioned concluding paragraph of the Treatise.*
This note seems to have been put there by a disciple of
Spinoza, and speaks of the Treatise as having been dictated,
while the text says that it was written. Very likely a good
portion of the Treatise had actually been dictated to his
friends while Spinoza was at Amsterdam, but the com
pleted Treatise must have been sent to them in manuscript
from Rijnsburg.

Avenarius has suggested that the Short Treatise was quite
a youthful work ; that the Dialogues were written about
1651, and the main text in 1654 or 1655. The suggestion
was largely based on the assumption that the Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus was finished in 1661 or earlier. But it
is known now that Spinoza did not complete it till 1669 or
1670. The comparative immaturity of the Short Treatise as
compared with it does not therefore compel us to assume
that the Treatise was written long before 1661. And the
internal evidence is against such an early date as 1655.
The tone of the concluding paragraph of Part II. shows
that, when writing it, Spinoza had already acquired a
certain authority in a circle of philosophical friends. He
could not have written in that strain at the age of 22 or 23.
Again, his reference to the " character of the age " seems to

* See the first note on p. 149.

cxxvi INTRODUCTION

point to his own excommunication as an event in the past.
Moreover, the Treatise shows an interest in specific Christian
doctrines and their reinterpretation (the son of God,
Regeneration, Sin in relation to the Law, and Grace).
Spinoza must have been moving for some time in a
Christian environment to feel such an interest in problems
of Christian theology. The characters he introduces as
illustrations bear New Testament names, and he even
devotes a chapter to Devils, in whom the Jews took very
little interest. All this argues in favour of the supposition
that the Short Treatise was not written till some years after
Spinoza s severance from the Jewish community (1656).
Freudenthal maintains, accordingly, that it must have been
composed between 1658 and 1660. With this view we
concur, allowing, however, that some of the additions may
be later than 1660, while some parts of the Treatise or
some of its views may date from before Spinoza s excom
munication, because one of the charges already brought
against him then was that he had asserted that extension
was an attribute of God.

It is interesting to note, in conclusion, that when Spinoza
made his literary debut he was already a pantheist. His
pantheism was not in any sense a development of Carte-
sianism ; he started from it, and at once criticised the Car
tesian dualism from that point of view. He probably owed his
introduction to pantheistic views partly to Jewish mysticism,
with which he must have been made acquainted by Rabbis
Morteira and Ben Israel, who were both of them strongly
inclined towards mysticism, and partly to Bruno, to whose
writings, as already suggested, Van den Enden may have
directed his attention. The Short Treatise shows also
considerable familiarity with, and indebtedness to, the
writings of Descartes, as will be shown in the Commentary.
But Spinoza is never merely a follower of the Jewish
Mystics, or of Bruno, or of Descartes. From the first he

HISTORY OF THE SHORT TREATISE cxxvii

has his own peculiar outlook. From the first he is, so to
say, his own architect, though he obtains his bricks from
many different quarters.

6. LITERATURE ON THE SHORT TREATISE

A. EDITIONS AND TRANSLATIONS

W. Meyer : Korte Verhandeling (a modern Dutch version >
also a new edition of Boehmer s Lineamenta) . Amster
dam, 1899.

C. Schaarschmidt : Benedicti de Spinoza " Korte Verhandeling
van God ..." (Dutch text and Latin introduction).
Amsterdam, 1869.

Spinoza s Kurzgefasste Abhandung (German translation).
Third edition, Leipzig, 1907.

C. Sigwart : Spinoza s Kurzer Tractat (German translation
with Introduction and Notes). Freiburg, 1870.

]. Van Vloten : Ad Benedicti de Spinoza Opera . . . Supple-
mentum (Dutch text with Latin translation). Amster
dam, 1862.

Van Vloten and Land s edition of Spinoza s complete works
gives the text in vol. ii. of the 1882 edition, and in
vol. iii. of the 1895 edition.

B. OTHER WORKS

R. Avenarius : Ueber die beiden erst en Phasen des Spinozischen

Pantheismus. Leipzig, 1868.

A. Baltzer : Spinoza s Entwickelungsgang. Kiel, 1888.
E. Boehmer : Benedicti de Spinoza Tractatus de Deo . . .

Lineamenta. Halle, 1852.
L. Busse : Beitriige zur Entwickelungsgeschichte Spinozas.

1888.

cxxviii INTRODUCTION

J. Freudenthal : Spinoza und die Scholastik (in the " Philo-

sophische Anfsatze" dedicated to Zeller). Leipzig,

1887.

Spinozastudien ("Zeitschrift fiir Philosophic," vols.

108, 109). 1896.

Ueber die Entwicklung der Lehre vom psychophysi-

schen Parallelismus bei Spinoza ("Archiv fiir gesamte

Psychologic," ix.). 1907.
C. Gebhardt : Spinozas Abhandlung ueber die Verbesserung

des Verstandes. Heidelberg, 1905.

M. Joel : Zur Genesis der Lehre Spinozas. Breslau, 1871.
C. Sigwart : Spinozas neuentdeckter Tractat. Gotha, 1866.
A. Trendelenburg : Ueber die aufgefundenen Ergdnzungen zu

Spinozas Werken (in " Historische Beitrage," vol. iii.).

Berlin, 1867.

Various references to the Short Treatise occur also in the
following more general works on the life or the philosophy
of Spinoza :
R. A. Duff : Spinoza s Political and Ethical Philosophy.

Glasgow, 1903.

K. Fischer : Spinoza. 4th ed. Heidelberg, 1898.
J. Freudenthal : Die Lebensgeschichte Spinozas. Leipzig,

1899. Das Leben Spinozas. Stuttgart, 1904.
H. H. Joachim : A Study of the Ethics of Spinoza. Oxford,

1901.

J. Martineau : A Study of Spinoza. 3rd ed. London, 1895.
Sir F. Pollock : Spinoza. 2nd ed. London, 1899.
E. E. Powell : Spinoza and Religion. Chicago, 1906.
A. Rivaud : Les Notions d Essence et d E%istence dans la

Philo sophie de Spinoza. Paris, 1906.

EXPLANATIONS OF SIGNS, &c.

A stands for the older manuscript of the Short Treatise.

B stands for the later manuscript of the Short Treatise.

Where nothing is stated to the contrary the Translation follows A.

*. . .* Words, &c., between asterisks are in B, but not in A.

[ ] Words in square brackets are those of the translator ; but

]* When there are asterisks outside the brackets, then B
has the words in such brackets.

f is used as a reference-mark to notes which are given in A.

I is used as a reference-mark to notes indicating different
readings, &c.

" . . . " Occasionally words are put in inverted commas to draw
attention to the fact that they are used in a peculiar sense.

Explanations of difficult words and passages will be found at the
end of the volume (p. 165 ff) arranged according to chapter
and page.

Beginners may omit, on a first reading, most ot the foot-notes in
the Translation.

SPINOZA S SHORT TREATISE ON
GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

[TITLE-PAGE IN A]

SHORT TREATISE
ON GOD, MAN, AND
HIS WELL-BEING

Previously written in the Latin tongue
by B.D.S. for the use of his disciples
who wanted to devote themselves to the
study of Ethics and true Philosophy.
And now translated into the Dutch lan
guage for the use of the Lovers of Truth
and Virtue : so that they who spout so
much about it, and put their dirt and
filth into the hands of simpletons as
though it were ambergris, may just have
their mouths stopped, and cease to pro
fane what they do not understand :
God, themselves , and how to help people
to have regard for each other s well-
being^ and how to heal those
whose mind is sick, in a
spirit of tenderness and
tolerance, after the
example of the Lord
Christ, our best
Teacher

Vikfrj^Sa w^#6^oWy?\T\t Ck^<kV&Wfl

<^$%>l*$ Hwx$y *A wGDr&H*** ^W 4 -
s-l , " -^

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X

[TITLE-PAGE IN B]

ETHICA OR MORAL SCIENCE

COMPOSED IN TWO PARTS

WHICH TREAT
I. OF GOD S EXISTENCE, and Attributes

II. OF MAN, with reference to the
character and origin of his Passions,
the use of his reason in this respect,
and the means whereby he is edu
cated to his Happiness and supreme
freedom

ALSO AN APPENDIX, containing a brief
account of the nature of Substance
as well as that of the human
Soul, and its union with the Body

COMPOSED BY

BENEDICTUS DE SPINOZA

--

OL^U-OC-e^xC.Of tAAfK_CX

1 . V~OU\K Cf-o-cl*? v-tLj&Zl^&M _ /

WULM-JV-tSfa y Z^L-

TABLE OF CONTENTS;

OF THE FOLLOWING Two BOOKS, NAMELY:

THE FIRST BOOK

TREATING OF GOD AND WHAT PERTAINS TO HIM,
CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS

CHAP. PAGE

I. THAT GOD EXISTS 15

II. WHAT GOD is 21

[FIRST DIALOGUE] 32

[SECOND DIALOGUE] 36

III. THAT GOD is A CAUSE OF ALL THINGS 41

IV. ON GOD S NECESSARY ACTIVITY 43
V. ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE 47

VI. ON DIVINE PREDESTINATION 48

VII. ON THE ATTRIBUTES WHICH DO NOT PERTAIN TO GOD 52

VIII. ON " NATURA NATURANS" 56

IX. ON " NATURA NATURATA " 57

X. WHAT GOOD AND EVIL ARE 59

THE SECOND BOOK

TREATING OF THE PERFECTION OF MAN SO THAT

HE MAY BE IN A POSITION TO BECOME

UNITED WITH GOD

:HAP. PAGE

[PREFACE] 63

I. ON OPINION, BELIEF, AND KNOWLEDGE 67

II. WHAT OPINION, BELIEF, AND CLEAR KNOWLEDGE ARE 69

| B has no Table of Contents
9

io TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

III. THE ORIGIN OF PASSION. PASSION ARISING FROM

OPINION 70

IV. WHAT COMES FROM BELIEF, AND ON THE GOOD AND

EVIL OF MAN 74

V. ON LOVE 78

VI. ON HATRED 82

VII. ON JOY AND SORROW 85

VIII. ESTEEM AND CONTEMPT 87

IX. HOPE AND FEAR go

X. ON REMORSE AND REPENTANCE 94

XI. ON DERISION AND JESTING 95

XII. ON GLORY, SHAME, AND SHAMELESSNESS 96

XIII. ON FAVOUR, GRATITUDE, AND INGRATITUDE 93

XIV. ON GRIEF 99
XV. ON THE TRUE AND THE FALSE 102

XVI. ON THE WILL 105

XVII. ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN WILL AND DESIRE 112

XVIII. ON THE USES OF THE FOREGOING 115

XIX. ON OUR HAPPINESS 118

XX. CONFIRMATION OF THE FOREGOING 126

XXL ON REASON 131

XXII. ON TRUE KNOWLEDGE, REGENERATION, &c. 133

XXIII. ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 136

XXIV. ON GOD S LOVE OF MAN 138
XXV. ON DEVILS 143

XXVI. ON TRUE FREEDOM 144

[APPENDIX I.] ON GOD 153

[APPENDIX II.] ON THE HUMAN SOUL 157

(^/l t^n--Oi-,-i/i_-cLe.

A ~ f

c*Z/JtjCJZ~ i

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>stst

[MONNIKHOFF S VERSES FACING SPINOZA S PORTRAIT IN A]

EDICTUS DE

Cm natujra,Deus,rerum ciu cog-mtus ordo
Hoc Spinola ftalru coiifpicieiidus erat.

Expreflere viri faciein.ietl pm^ere mentetn
Zettxidis artifices non valwere itianvis.

Ilia vi^ei Tcnplis : illic luDlimia tractat:
Huiicquicun^uecupis nofcere.fci-ipta leg-e .

FIRST PART

ON GOD

* - ^11

CM^OA-t-ic *, *V<-vY/7 >^r/ kfltlieSl H>4 *

[FIRST PAGE OF A]

fyi/^xCOLxa-e^--oU_

"tCo-UlMLJkM-- <*sy e-e-TC TMjut

CHAPTER I i

THAT GOD EXISTS

As regards the first,! namely, whether there is a God, this,
we say, can be proved.

*!.* In the first place, a priori thus :

1. Whatever we clearly and distinctly know to

belong to the nature t of a thing, we can also
truly affirm of that thing. Now we can know
clearly and distinctly that existence belongs
to the nature of God ; 10

Therefore . . .
Otherwise also thus : tt

2. The essence of things are from all eternity,

and unto all eternity shall remain im
mutable ;

The existence of God is essence ;
Therefore . . .

t Understand the definite nature through which a thing is what
it is, and which can by no means be removed from it without
at the same time destroying that thing : thus, for instance, it 20
belongs to the essence of a mountain that it should have a
valley, or the essence of a mountain is that it has a valley ; JJ|
this is truly eternal and immutable, and must always be included
in the concept of a mountain, even if it never existed, or did not
exist now.

t B: this.

It B omits these three words.

JJt B simply: to the essence of a mountain belongs a valley.

15

16 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i *IL* A posteriori, thus :

If man has an idea of God, then God f must exist
formaliter ;

Now, man has an idea of God ;
Therefore . . .

The first we prove thus :

If there is an idea of God, then the cause thereof
must exist formaliter, and contain in itself all
that the idea has objective ;
10 Now there is an idea of God ;

Therefore . . .

In order to prove the first part of this argument we state
the following principles, namely :

1. That the number of knowable things is in

finite ;

2. That a finite understanding cannot apprehend

the infinite ;

3. That a finite understanding, unless it is deter

mined by something external, cannot through

20 itself know anything ; because, just as it has

no power to know all things equally, so little

f From the definition which follows in chapter 2, namely, that
God has infinite attributes, we can prove his existence thus :
Whatever we clearly and distinctly see to belong to the nature of
a thing, that we can also with truth affirm of that thing ; now to
the nature of a being that has infinite attributes belongs existence,
which is an attribute ; therefore . . . To assert that this may well
be affirmed of the idea, but not of the thing itself, is false : for the
Idea does not really consist of the attribute which belongs to this
30 being, so that that which is affirmed is [affirmed] neither of the
thing, nor of that which is affirmed of the thing ; so that there is a
great difference between the Idea and the Ideatum : therefore
what is affirmed of the thing is not affirmed of the Idea, and
vice versa. [Text corrupt. See Commentary.]

THAT GOD EXISTS 17

also has it the power to begin or to commence i
to know this, for instance,! sooner than that,
or that sooner than this. Since, then, it can
do neither the one nor the other it can know
nothing.
The first (or the major premiss) is proved thus :

If the imagination of man were the sole cause of
his ideas, then it would be impossible that he
should be able to apprehend anything, but he
can apprehend something ; 10

Therefore . . .

The first Jt is proved by the first principle, namely, that
the knowable things are infinitely numerous. Also, following
the second principle, man cannot know all, because the
human understanding is finite, and if not determined by
external things to know this sooner than that, and that
sooner than this, then according to the third principle it
should be impossible for it to know anything.!

J B omits " for instance."

Jt Instead of this paragraph B has the following : Again, since 20
according to the first principle the knowable things are infinite, and
according to the second principle the finite understanding cannot
comprehend everything, and according to the third principle it has
not the power to know this sooner than that, and that sooner than
this, it would be impossible for it to know anything, if it were not
determined thereto by external things.

t Further, to say that this idea is a fiction, this also is false : for
it is impossible to have this [idea] if it [the ideatum\ does not exist ;
this is shown on page 16, and we also add the following :

It is quite true that when an idea has first come to us from a 30
particular thing, and we have generalised it in abstracto, then our
understanding may fancy various things about it, and we can add
to it many other attributes abstracted from other things. But it is
impossible to do this without a prior knowledge of the things them
selves from which these abstractions have been made. Once, how
ever, it is assumed that this idea [of God] is a fiction, then all other

i8 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i From all this the second point is proved, namely, that
the cause of a man s ideas is not his imagination but
some external cause, which compels him to apprehend one
thing sooner than another, and it is no other than this, that
the things whose essentia objectiva is in his understanding
exist formaliter, and are nearer to him than other things.
If, then, man has the idea of God, it is clear that God
must exist formaliter, though not eminenter, as there is

ideas that we have must be fictions no less. If this is so, whence
10 comes it that we find such a great difference among them ? For as
regards some we see that it is impossible they should exist ; e.g., all
monsters supposed to be composed of two natures, such as an
animal that should be both a bird and a horse, and the like, for
which it is impossible to have a place in Nature, which we find
differently constituted ; J other ideas may, but need not, exist ;
whether, however, they exist or do not exist, their essence is always
necessary ; such is the idea of a triangle, and that of the love in the
soul apart from the body, &c. ; so that even if I at first thought
that I had imagined these, I am nevertheless compelled afterwards
20 to say that they are, and would be, the same no less even if neither
I nor anybody had ever thought about them. They are, conse
quently, not merely imagined by me, and must also have outside
me a subjectum other than myself, without which subjectum they
cannot be. In addition to these there is yet a third idea, and it is
an only one ; this one carries with it necessary existence, and not,
like the foregoing, the mere possibility of existence : for, in the
case of those, their essence was indeed necessary, but not their
existence, while in its case, both its existence and its essence are
necessary, and it is nothing without them. I therefore see now
3 that the truth, essence, or existence of anything never depends on
me : for, as was shown with reference to the second kind of ideas,
they are what they are independently of me, whether as regards
their essence alone, or as regards both essence and existence. I
find this to be true also, indeed much more so, of this third unique

J In B the whole of this first part of the note is given in the body of
the text, while the rest is given as a note on " other ideas," eight lines
above.

THAT GOD EXISTS 19

nothing more real or more excellent beside or outside him. r
Now, that man has the idea of God, this is clear, because he
knows his attributes,! which attributes cannot be derived
from [man] himself, because he is imperfect. And that he
knows these attributes is evident from this, namely, that he
knows that the infinite cannot be obtained by putting together
divers finite parts ; that there cannot be two t infinites, but

idea ; not only does it not depend on me, but, on the contrary, he
alone tt must be the subjectum of that which I affirm of him. Con
sequently, if he did not exist, I should not be able to assert anything 10
at all about him ; although this can be done in the case of other
things, even when they do not exist. He must also be, indeed, the
subjectum of all other things.

From what has been said so far it is clearly manifest that the idea
of infinite attributes in the perfect being is no fiction ; we shall,
however, still add the following :

According to the foregoing consideration of Nature, we have so
far not been able to discover more than two attributes only which
belong to this all-perfect being. And these give us nothing adequate
to satisfy us that this is all of which this perfect being consists, 20
quite the contrary, we find in us a something which openly tells us
not only of more, but of infinite perfect attributes, which must
belong to this perfect being before he can be said to be perfect.
And whence comes this idea of perfection ? This something cannot
be the outcome of these two [attributes] : tor two can only yield
two, and not an infinity. Whence then ? From myself, never ;
else I must be able to give what I did not possess. Whence, then,
but from the infinite attributes themselves which tell us that they
are, without however telling us, at the same time, what they are :
for only of two do we know what they are. 30

t His attributes ; it is better [to say], because he knows what is
proper to God ; for these things [infinity, perfection, &c.] are no
attributes of God. Without these, indeed, God could not be God,
but it is not through them [that he is God], since they show nothing
substantial, but are only like adjectives which require substantives
or their explanation.

I B omits " two."

tt B omits "alone."

20 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i only one ; that it is perfect and immutable, for we know
that nothing seeks, of itself, its own annihilation, and also
that it cannot change into anything better,t because it is
perfect, which it would not be in that case, or also that such
a being cannot be subjected to anything outside it, since it
is omnipotent, and so forth.

From all this, then, it follows clearly that we can prove
both a priori and a posteriori that God exists. Better, in
deed, a priori. For things which are proved in the latter
10 way [a posteriori] must be proved through their external
causes, which is a manifest imperfection t in them, inas
much as they cannot make themselves known H through
themselves, but only through external causes. God, how
ever, who is the first cause of all things, and also the cause
of himself [causa sui~\, makes himself known through him
self. Hence one need not attach much importance to the
saying of Thomas Aquinas, namely, that God could not be
proved a priori because he, forsooth, has no cause.

f The cause of this change would have to be either outside, or
20 in it. It cannot be outside, because no substance which, like this,
exists through itself depends on anything outside it ; therefore it is
not subject to change through it. Nor can it be in it : because no
thing, much less this, desires its own undoing all undoing comes
from outside. *Again, that there can be no finite substance is
clear from this, because in that case it would necessarily have to
have something which it had from nothing : which is impossible ;
for whence has it that wherein it differs from God ? Certainly not
from God ; for he has nothing imperfect or finite, &c. : whence,
therefore, but from nothing ? *
30 J B : an extreme imperfection.
Jt B omits " known."

CHAPTER II i

WHAT GOD IS

Now that we have proved above that God is, it is time to
show what he is. Namely, we say that he is a being of
whom all or infinite attributes are predicated,^ of which attri
butes every one is infinitely perfect in its kind. Now, in order
to express our views clearly, we shall premise the four
following propositions :

i. That there is no finite substance, tt but that every
substance must be infinitely perfect in its kind, that is to 10
say, that in the infinite understanding of God no substance
can be more perfect than that which already exists in
Nature.

t The reason is this, since Nothing can have no attributes, the
All must have all attributes ; and just as Nothing has no attribute
because it is Nothing, so that which is Something has attributes
because it is Something. Hence, the more it is Something, the
more attributes it must have, and consequently God being the
most perfect, and all that is Anything, he must also have infinite,
perfect, and all attributes.

ft Once we can prove that there can be no Finite Substance^
then zK substance must without limitation belong to the divine
being. We do it thus : i . It must either have limited itself or J
some other must have limited it. It could not have done so itself,
because having been infinite it would have had to change its whole
essence. Nor can it be limited by another : for this again must be
either finite or infinite ; the former is impossible, therefore the
latter; therefore it [i.e., the other thing] is God. He must, then,
have made it finite because he lacked either the power or the will
[to make it infinite] : but the first [supposition] is contrary to his 30

J B inserts here 2.

21

22 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i 2. That there are not two like substances.

3. That one substance cannot produce another.

4. That in the infinite understanding of God there
is no other substance than that which is formaliter in
Nature.

As regards the first, namely, that there is no finite sub
stance, &c., should any one want to maintain the opposite,
we would ask the following question, namely, whether this
substance is finite through itself, whether it has made
10 itself thus finite and did not want to make itself less finite ;
or whether it is thus finite through its cause, which cause

omnipotence, the second is contrary to his goodness. J 2. That
there can be no finite substance is clear from this, namely, that, if
so, it would necessarily have something which it would have from
Nothing, which is impossible. For whence can it derive that
wherein it differs from God ? Certainly not from God, for he has
nothing imperfect or finite, c. So, whence then but from
Nothing? Therefore there is no substance other than infinite.
Whence it follows, that there cannot be two like infinite sub-

20 stances ; for to posit such necessitates limitation. And from this,
again, it follows that one substance cannot produce another ; thus :
The cause that we might suppose to produce this substance must
have the same attribute J J as the one produced, and also either just
as much perfection JJJ or more or less. The first supposition is
not possible, because there would then be two like [substances].
The second also not, because in that case there would be a
finite [substance]. Nor the third, because something cannot
come from nothing. Moreover, if the finite Hl~t came from
the infinite, then the infinite JJttt would also be finite, &c.

30 Therefore one substance can not produce another. And from
this, again, it follows that all substance must exist "formaliter"
for if it did not exist, there would be no possibility for it to come
into existence.

J B omits here the next five lines, which it has already given at the
end of the last note in the first chapter.
H B: attributes.
Ill B omits the seven words "and also . . . perfection."

Hill B : the cause.

WHAT GOD IS 23

either could not or would not give more ? The first i
[alternative] is not true, because it is impossible that a
substance should have wanted to make itself finite, especially
a substance which had come into existence through itself.
Therefore, I say, it is made finite by its cause, which is
necessarily God. Further, if it is finite through its cause,
this must be so either because its cause could not give
more, or because it would not give more. That he should
not have been able to give more would contradict his
omnipotence ; f that he should not have been willing 10
to give more, when he could well do so, savours of ill-
will, which is nowise in God, who is all goodness and
perfection.

As regards the second, that there are not two like substances,
we prove this on the ground that each substance is perfect
in its kind ; for if there were two alike they would neces-

f To say to this that the nature of the thing required such
[limitation] and that it could not therefore be otherwise, that is no
reply : for the nature of a thing can require nothing while it does
not exist. Should you say that one may, nevertheless, see what 20
belongs to the nature of a thing which does not exist : that is true
as regards its existence, but by no means as regards its essence.
And herein lies the difference between creating and generating.
To create is to posit a thing quo ad essentiam et existentiam simul
[i.e., to give a thing both essence and existence] ; while in the
case of generation a thing comes forth quo ad existentiam solam
[i.e., it only receives existence]. And therefore there is now in
Nature no creation but only generation. So that when God
creates he creates at once the nature of the thing with the
thing itself. He would therefore show ill-will if (from lack of 30
will, and not of power) he created the thing in such a way that
it should not agree with its cause in essence and existence.
However, what we here call creation can really not be said
ever to have taken place, and it is only mentioned to indicate
what we can say about it, if we distinguish between creating and
generating.

24 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i sarily limit one another, and would consequently not be
infinite, as we t have already shown before.

As to the third, namely, that one substance cannot produce
another : should any one again maintain the opposite, we
ask whether the cause, which is supposed to produce this
substance, has or has not the same attributes as the
produced [substance]. The latter is impossible, because
something cannot come from nothing; therefore the
former. And then we ask whether in the attribute which

10 is presumed to be the cause of this produced [substance],
there is just as much perfection as in the produced
substance, or less, or more. Less, we say, there cannot be,
for the reasons * given* above. More, also not, we say,
because in that case this second one would be finite, which
is opposed to what has already been proved by us. Just as
much, then ; they are therefore alike, and It are two like
substances, which clearly conflicts with our previous
demonstration. Further, that which is created is by
no means produced from Nothing, but must necessarily

20 have been produced from something existing. But that
something should have come forth from this, and that it
should none the less have this something even after it has
issued from it, that we cannot grasp with our under
standing. Lastly, if we would seek the cause of the
substance which is the origin of the things which issue
from its attribute, then it behoves us to seek also the cause
of that cause, and then again the cause of that cause, et
sic in infmitum ; so that if we must necessarily stop and
halt somewhere, as indeed we must, it is necessary to stop

30 at this only substance.

As regards the fourth, that there is no substance or attribute

in the infinite understanding of God other than what exists

" formaliter" in Nature, this can be, and is, proved by us :

(i) from the infinite power of God, since in him there can

I B : I. tJ B has " or," and omits " are."

WHAT GOD IS 25

be no cause by which he might have been induced to i
create one sooner or more than another ; (2) from the
simplicity of his will ; (3) because he cannot omit to do
what is good, as we shall show afterwards ; (4) because
it would be impossible for that which does not now exist
to come into existence, since one substance cannot produce
another. And, what is more, in that case there would be
more infinite substances not in existence than there are in
existence, which is absurd, t From all this it follows then :
that of Nature all in all is predicated, and that consequently 10
Nature consists of infinite attributes, each of which is perfect
in its kind. And this is just equivalent to the definition
usually given of God.

Against what we have just said, namely, that there is no
thing in the infinite understanding of God but what exists
formaliter in Nature, some want to argue in this way : If
God has created all, then he can create nothing more ; but
that he should be able to create nothing more conflicts with
his omnipotence ; therefore . . .

Concerning the first, we admit that God can create 20
nothing more. And with regard to the second, we say
that we own, if God were not able to create all that could
be created, then it would conflict with his omnipotence ;
but that is by no means the case if he cannot create what is
self-contradictory ; as it is, to say that he has created all, and
also that he should be able to create still more. Assuredly
it is a far greater perfection in God that he has created
all that was in his infinite understanding than if he had
not created it, or, as they say, if he had never been able to
create it. But why say so much about it ? Do they not 30
themselves argue thus, t or must they not argue thus

t B omits this sentence.

f That is, whenever we make them argue from this admis
sion, namely, that God is omniscient, then they cannot but argue
thus.

26 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i * from God s omniscience* : If God is omniscient then he
can know nothing more ; but that God can know nothing
more is incompatible with his perfection ; therefore . . . ?
But if God has all in his understanding, and, owing to his
infinite perfection, can know nothing more, well then, why
can we not say that he has also created all that he had in
his understanding, and has made it so that it exists or
should exist formatter in Nature ?

Since, then, we know that all alike is in the infinite

10 understanding of God, and that there is no cause why he
should have created this sooner and more than that, and
that he could have produced all things in a moment, so let
us see, for once, whether we cannot use against them the
same weapons which they take up against us ; namely,
thus:

If God can never create so much that he cannot create
more, then he can never create what he can create ; but
that he cannot create what he can create is self-contra
dictory. Therefore . . .

20 Now the reasons why we said that all these attributes,
which are in Nature, are but one single being, and by no
means different things (although we can know them clearly
and distinctly the one without the other, and the other
without another), are these :

1. Because we have found already before that there
must be an infinite and perfect being, by which nothing
else can be meant than such a being of which all in all
must be predicated. Why ? [Because] to a being which
has any essence attributes must be referred, and the more

30 essence one ascribes to it, the more attributes also must
one ascribe to it, and consequently if a being is infinite
then its attributes also must be infinite, and this is just
what we call a perfect J being.

2. Because of the unity which we see everywhere in

B : an infinite.

WHAT GOD IS 27

Nature. If there were different beings in it t then it would i
be impossible for them to unite with one another.

3. Because although, as we have already seen, one
substance cannot produce another, and if a substance does
not exist it is impossible for it to begin to exist, we see,
nevertheless, that in no substance (which we none the less
know to exist in Nature), when considered separately, is
there any necessity to be real, since existence does not
pertain to its separate essence. ft So it must necessarily
follow that Nature, which results from no causes, and 10
which we nevertheless know to exist, must necessarily be a
perfect being to which existence belongs.

From all that we have so far said it is evident, then, that
we posit extension as an attribute of God ; and this seems
not at all appropriate to a perfect being : for since exten
sion is divisible, the perfect being would have to consist of
parts, and this is altogether inapplicable to God, because

f That is, if there were different substances which were not
connected in one only being, then their union would be impossible,
because we see clearly that they have nothing at all in common, it 20
is so with thought and extension of which we nevertheless consist.

ft That is, if no substance can be other than real, and yet
existence does not follow from its essence, when it is considered
by itself, it follows that it is not something independent, but must
be something, that is, an attribute, of another thing, namely, the
one, only, and universal being. Or thus : All substance is real, and
when a substance is considered by itself its existence does not
follow from its essence ; therefore, no existing substance can be
known through itself, but it must belong to something else. That
is, when with our understanding we consider " substantial " Thought 30
and ["substantial"] Extension, then we consider them only in their
essence and not as existing, that is [we do not consider] that their
existence necessarily pertains to their essence. When, however, we
prove [of each] that it is an attribute of God, we thereby prove a
priori that it exists, and a posteriori (as regards extension alone)
[we prove its existence] from the modes which must necessarily
have it for their subjectum.

28 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i he is a simple being. Moreover, when extension is divided
it is passive, and with God (who is never passive, and
cannot be affected by any other being, because he is the
first efficient cause of all) this can by no means be the case.
To this we reply : (i) that "part" and "whole" are not
true or real entities, but only "things of reason," and
consequently there are in Nature t neither whole nor parts.
(2) A thing composed of different parts must be such that
the parts thereof, taken separately, can be conceived and
10 understood one without another. Take, for instance, a
clock which is composed of many different wheels, cords,
and other things ; in it, I say, each wheel, cord, &c., can be

f In Nature, that is, in " substantial " Extension; for if this were
divided its nature and being would be at once annihilated, as it exists
only as infinite extension, or, which comes to the same, it exists
only as a whole.

But should you say : is there, in extension, no part prior to all
its modes ? I say, certainly not. But you may say, since there is
motion in matter, it must be in some part of matter, for it cannot

20 be in the whole, because this is infinite ; and whither shall it be
moved, when there is nothing outside it ? Therefore it must be in
a part.J My answer is : Motion alone does not exist, but only
motion and rest together ; and this is in the whole, and must be in
it, because there is no part in extension. Should you, however,
say that there is, then tell me : if you divide the whole of extension
then, as regards any part which you cut off from it in thought, can you
also separate it in nature from all [other] parts ; and supposing this
has been done, I ask, what is there between the part cut offtJ and
the rest ? You must say, a vacuum, or another body, or something

30 of extension itself; there is no fourth possibility. The first will not
do, because there is no vacuum, something positive and yet no
body ; nor the second, because then there would exist a mode,
which cannot be, since JJJ extension as extension is without and
prior to all modes. Therefore the third ; and then there is no part
but only the whole of extension.

J B omits this sentence. H B: separated.

HI B : therefore. HI J B : but extension one and indivisible.

WHAT GOD IS 29

conceived and understood separately, without the com- i
posite whole being necessary thereto. Similarly also in the
case of water, which consists of straight oblong particles,
each part thereof can be conceived and understood, and
can exist without the whole ; but extension, being a sub
stance, one cannot say of it that it has parts, since it can
neither diminish nor increase, and no parts thereof can be
understood apart, because by its nature it must be infinite.
And that it must be such, follows from this, namely, because
if it were not such, but consisted of parts, then it would not icr
be infinite by its nature, as it is said to be ; and it is
impossible to conceive parts in an infinite nature, since by
their nature all parts are finite. t Add to this still : if it
consisted of different parts then it should be intelligible
that supposing some parts thereof to be annihilated, exten-
tion might remain all the same, and not be annihilated
together with the annihilation of some of its parts ; this is
clearly contradictory in what is infinite by its own nature
and can never be, or be conceived, as limited or finite.
Further, as regards the parts in Nature, we maintain that 20
division, as has also been said already before, never takes place
in substance, but always and only in the mode of substance.
Thus, if I want to divide water, I only divide the mode of
substance, and not substance itself. And whether this mode
is that of water or something else it is always the same.tl

Division, then, or passivity, always takes place in the
mode ; thus when we say that man passes away or is
annihilated, then this is understood to apply to man only in
so far as he is such a composite being, and a mode of sub
stance, and not the substance on which he depends. 30

J B : because all the parts would have to be infinite by their
nature.

tt B : when, therefore, I divide water I do not divide the sub
stance, but only that mode of the substance, which substance,
however variously modified, is always the same.

c

30 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

* Moreover, we have already stated, and we shall repeat it
Inter, that outside God there is nothing at all, and that he is
an Immanent Cause. Now, passivity, whenever the agent
and the patient are different entities, is a palpable imperfec
tion, because the patient must necessarily be dependent on
that which has caused the passivity from outside ; it has,
therefore, no place in God, who is perfect, Furthermore,
of such an agent who acts in himself it can never be said
that he has the imperfection of a patient, because he is not

10 affected by another ; such, for instance, is the case with the
understanding, which, as the philosophers also assert, is the
cause of its ideas, since, however, it is an immanent cause,
what right has one to say that it is imperfect, howsoever
frequently it is affected by itself ? t Lastly, since substance
is [the cause] and the origin of all its modes, it may with
far greater right be called an agent than a patient. And
with these remarks we consider all adequately answered.

It is further objected, that there must necessarily be a
first cause which sets body in motion, because when at rest

20 it is impossible for it to set itself in motion. And since it
is clearly manifest that rest and motion exist in Nature,
these must, they think, necessarily result from an external
cause. But it is easy for us to reply to this ; for we concede
that, if body were a thing existing through itself, and had no
other attributes than length, breadth, and depth, then, if it
really rested there would be in it no cause whereby to begin
to move itself ; but we have already stated before that
Nature is a being of which all attributes are predicated, and
this being so, it can be lacking in nothing wherewith to

30 produce all that there is to be produced.

Having so far discussed what God is, we shall say but
a word, as it were, about his attributes : that those which
are known to us consist of two only, namely, Thought and

I B : And although the understanding, as the philosophers say,
is a cause of its ideas, yet, since it is an immanent cause, &c.

WHAT GOD IS 31

Extension ; for here we speak only of attributes which i
might be called the proper attributes of God,! through
which we come to know him [as he is] in himself, and not
[merely] as he acts [towards things] outside himself. All
else, then, that men ascribe to God beyond these two
attributes, all that (if it otherwise pertains to him) must be
either an " extraneous denomination," such as that he exists
through himself, is Eternal, One, Immutable, &c., or, I say, has
reference to his activity, such as that he is a cause, predes
tines, and rules all things : all which are properties of God, 10
but give us no information as to what he is. But how and in
what manner these attributes can nevertheless have a place in
God we shall explain in the following chapters. But, for
the better understanding of this !! and in further exposition
thereof,!!! we have thought it well * and have decided * to
add the following arguments consisting of a [Dialogue.]

! B : which may truly be called God s attributes.

!! B : of the foregoing. !!! B : of what we mean to say.

[FIRST] DIALOGUE

BETWEEN THE UNDERSTANDING, LOVE, REASON,
AND DESIRE

LOVE. I see, Brother, that both my essence and perfection
depend on your perfection ; and since the perfection of the
object which you have conceived is your perfection, while
from yours again mine proceeds, so tell me now, I pray you,
whether you have conceived such a being as is supremely
perfect, not capable of being limited by any other, and in

10 which I also am comprehended.

UNDERSTANDING. I for my part consider Nature only
in its totality as infinite, and supremely perfect, but you,
if you have any doubts about it, ask Reason, she will
tell you.

REASON. To me the truth of the matter is indubitable, for
if we would limit Nature then we should, absurdly enough,
have to limit it with a mere Nothing ; I we avoid this absurdity
by stating that it is OneEternal Unity, infinite, omnipotent, &c.,
that is, that Nature is infinite and that all is contained

20 therein ; and the negative of this we call Nothing.

DESIRE. Ah indeed ! it is wondrously congruous to sup
pose that Unity is in keeping with the Difference which I
observe everywhere in Nature. But how ? I see that think
ing substance has nothing in common with extended sub
stance, and that the one limits [not] the other ; and if, in addi
tion to these substances, you want to posit yet a third one
which is perfect in all respects, then look how you involve

J A and B continue : moreover under the following attributes,
namely, that it is One, Eternal, infinite through itself ; we
30 avoid . . .

32

UNDERSTANDING, LOVE, REASON, &c. 33

yourself in manifest contradictions ; for if this third one is i
placed outside the first two, then it is wanting in all the
attributes which belong to those two, but this can never be
the case with a whole outside of which there is nothing.
Moreover if this being is omnipotent and perfect, then it must
be such because it has made itself, and not because another
has made it ; that, however, which could produce both itself
and yet another besides would be even more omnipotent.
And lastly, if you call it omniscient then it is necessary that
it should know itself ; and, at the same time, you must know 10
that the knowledge of oneself alone is less than the know
ledge of oneself together with the knowledge of other sub
stances. All these are manifest contradictions. I would,
therefore, have advised Love to rest content with what I show
her, and to look about for no other things.

LOVE. What now, O dishonourable one, have you shown
me but what would result in my immediate ruin. For, if I
had ever united myself with what you have shown me, then
from that moment I should have been persecuted by the
two archenemies of the human race, namely, Hatred and 20
Remorse, and sometimes also by Oblivion ; and therefore I
turn again to Reason only to proceed and stop the mouths
of these foes.

REASON. What you say, O Desire, that there are different
substances, that, I tell you, is false ; for I see clearly that
there is but One, which exists through itself, and is a support to
all other attributes. And if you will refer to the material and
the mental as substances, in relation to the modes which are
dependent on them, why then, you must also call them
modes in relation to the substance t on which they depend : 3
for they are not conceived by you as existing through them
selves. And in the same way that willing, feeling, under
standing, loving, &c., are different modes of that which you
call a thinking substance, in which you bring together and
t A : substances ; B : substance.

34 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i unite all these in one, t so I also conclude, from your own
proofs, that Both Infinite Extension and Thought together with
all other infinite attributes (or, according to your usage, other
substances) are only modes of the One, Eternal, Infinite Being,
who exists through himself ; and from all these we posit, as
stated, An Only One or a Unity outside which nothing can be
imagined to be. J}

DESIRE. Methinks I see a very great confusion in this argu
ment of yours ; for, it seems you will have it that the whole

10 must be something outside of or apart from its parts, which is
truly absurd. For all philosophers are unanimous in saying
that " whole " is a second notion, and that it is nothing in
Nature apart from human thought. Moreover, as I gather
from your example, you confuse whole with cause : for, as I
say, the whole only consists of and [exists] through its parts,
and so it comes that you represent the thinking power as a
thing on which the Understanding, Love, &c., depend. But
you cannot call it a Whole, only a Cause of the Effects just
named by you.

20 REASON. I see decidedly how you muster all your friends
against me, and that, after the method usually adopted by
those who oppose the truth, you are designing to achieve by
quibbling what you have not been able to accomplish with
your fallacious reasoning. But you will not succeed in
winning Love to your side by such means. Your assertion,
then, is, that the cause (since it is the Originator of the effects)
must therefore be outside these. But you say this because
you only know of the transeunt and not of the immanent
cause, which by no means produces anything outside itself,

30 as is exemplified by the Understanding, which is the cause
of its ideas. And that is why I called the understanding

% A : all which you bring to one, and make one from all these ;
B : to which you bring all and make them into one.

It B : . . . One, Eternal, self-subsisting Being in which all is one
and united, and outside which unity nothing can be imagined to be.

UNDERSTANDING, LOVE, REASON, &c. 35

(in so far as, or because, its ideas depend on it J) a cause ;
and on the other hand, since it consists of its ideas, a whole :
so also God is both an Immanent Cause with reference to his
works or creatures, and also a whole, considered from the second
point of view.

I So in B. A : it depends on its ideas.

i SECOND DIALOGUE

BETWEEN

ERASMUS AND THEOPHILUS

RELATING PARTLY TO THE PRECEDING, PARTLY TO THE
FOLLOWING SECOND PART

ERASMUS. I have heard you say, Theophilus, that God is
a cause of all things, and, at the same time, that he can be
no other than an Immanent cause. Now, if he is znimmanent
cause of all things, how then can you call him a remote I

10 cause ? For, that is impossible in the case of an Immanent
cause.

THEOPHILUS. When I said that God is a remote t cause, I
only said it with reference to the things [which God has
produced mediately, and not with reference to those] which
God (without any other conditions beyond his mere exist
ence) has produced immediately ; but on no account did
I mean to call him a remote! cause absolutely: as you
might also have clearly gathered from my remarks. For,
I also said that in some respects we can call him a remote

20 cause.

ERASMUS. I understand now adequately what you want
to say ; but I note also that you have said, that the effect of
the It immanent cause remains united with its cause in such
a way that together they constitute a whole. Now, if this is
so, then, methinks, God cannot be an immanent cause.
For, if he and that which is produced by him together form
a whole, then you ascribe to God at one time more essence
than at another time. I pray you, remove these doubts
for me.

30 JB: prior. H B : an.

36

ERASMUS AND THEOPHILUS 37

THEOPHILUS. If, Erasmus, you want to extricate yourself i
from this confusion, then mark well what I am going to tell
you now. The essence of a thing does not increase through
its union with another thing with which it constitutes a
whole ; on the contrary, the first remains unchanged. I will
give you an illustration, so that you may understand me the
better. An image-carver has made from wood various forms
after the likeness of the parts of the human body ; he takes
one of these, which has the form of a human breast, joins it
to another, which has the form of a human head, and of 10
these two he makes a whole, which represents the upper part
of a human body ; would you therefore say that the essence
of the head has increased because it has been joined to the
breast ? That would be erroneous, because it is the same
that it was before. For the sake of greater clearness let me
give you another illustration, namely, an idea that I have of
a triangle, and another resulting from an extension of one
of the angles, which extended or extending angle is neces
sarily equal to the two interior opposite angles, and so forth.
These, I say, have produced a new idea, namely, that the 20
three angles of the triangle are equal to two right angles.
This idea is so connected with the first, that it can neither
be, nor be conceived without the same.t Mark well now
that although the new idea is joined to the preceding one,
the essence of the preceding idea does not undergo any
change in consequence ; on the contrary, it remains without
the slightest change. The same you may also observe in
every idea which produces love in itself : this love in no way
adds to the essence of the idea. But why multiply illustra
tions ? since you can see it clearly in the subject which I 30
have been illustrating and which we are discussing now. I
have distinctly stated that all attributes, which depend on no

t A continues : And of all ideas which any one has we make a
whole, or (which is the same) a thing of reason, which we call
Understanding-

38 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

other cause, and whose definition requires no genus pertain
to the essence of God ; and since the created things are not
competent to establish an attribute, they do not increase the
essence of God, however intimately they become united to
him. Add to this, that "whole" is but a thing of Reason,
and does not differ from the general except in this alone that
the general results from various Disconnected individuals, the
Whole, from various United individuals ; also in this, that
the General only comprises parts of the same kind, but the

10 Whole, parts both the same and different in kind. I

ERASMUS. So far as this is concerned you have satisfied
me. But, in addition to this, you have also said, that the
effect of the II inner cause cannot perish so long as its cause
lasts ; this, I well see, is certainly true, but III if this is so,
then how can God be an inner cause of all things, seeing
that many things perish ? After your previous distinction
you will say, that God is really a cause of the effects which he
has produced immediately, without any other conditions except
his attributes alone ; and, that these cannot perish so long as

20 their cause endures ; but that you do not call God an inner cause
of the effects whose existence does not depend on him imme
diately, but which have come into being through some other
thing, except in so far as their causes do not operate, and can
not operate, without God, nor also outside him^lll and that for
this reason also, since they are not produced immediately
by God, they can perish. But this does not satisfy me.
For I see that you conclude, that the human understanding
is immortal, because it is a product which God has pro
duced in himself. Now it is impossible that more than the

30 I B : . . . the general results from various unconnected indi
viduals of the same kind ; but the whole from various connected
individuals different as well as the same in kind.

U B : an.

HI B : this, I see, is not true, because if ...

llll B : without and outside him.

ERASMUS AND THEOPHILUS 39

attributes of God should have been necessary in order to i
produce such an understanding ; for, in order to be a being
of such supreme perfection, it must have been created from
eternity, just like all other things which depend imme
diately on God. And I have heard you say so, if I am not
mistaken. And this being so, how will you reconcile J
this without leaving over any difficulties ?

THEOPHILUS. It is true, Erasmus, that the things (for the
existence of which no other thing is required, except the
attributes of God) which have been created immediately by 10
him have been created from eternity. It is to be remarked,
however, that although in order that a thing may exist
there is required a special modification and tt a thing beside
the attributes of God, for all that, God does not cease to be
able to produce a thing immediately. For, of the necessary
things which are required to bring things Jtt into existence,
some are there in order that they should produce the thing,
and others in order that the thing should be capable of being
produced. For example, I want to have light in a certain
room ; I kindle a light, and this lights up the room through 20
itself ; or I open a window [shutter], now this act of opening
does not itself give light, but still it brings it about that the
light can enter the room.Jttt Likewise in order to set a
body in motion another body is required that shall have all
the motion that is to pass from it to the other. But in
order to produce in us an idea of God there is no need for
another special thing that shall have what is to be produced
in us, but only such a body in Nature whose idea is neces
sary in order to represent God immediately. This you

t B : explain. 30

II B : of. HI B : a thing.

tilt B : I kindle this [light], or I open a window, whereupon the
room becomes light ; now the act of kindling, or of opening the room
does not produce the light, but prepares the way for the light to be
able to light up the room, or to enter it.

4 o GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i could also have gathered from my remarks : for I said that
God is only known through himself, and not through
something else. However, I tell you this, that so long as
we have not such a clear idea of God as shall unite us
with him in such a way that it will not let us love any
thing beside him, we cannot truly say that we are united
with God, so as to depend immediately on him. If there is
still anything that you may have to ask, leave it for another
time ; just now circumstances require me to attend to other

10 matters. Farewell.

ERASMUS. Nothing at present, but I shall ponder what
you have just told me till the next opportunity. God be
with you.

CHAPTER III i

THAT GOD IS A CAUSE OF ALL THINGS

WE shall now begin to consider those attributes [of God]
which we called Propria. f And, first of all, how God * s a
cause of all things.

Now, we have already said above that one substance can
not produce another ; and that God is a being of whom all
attributes are predicated; whence it clearly follows that all
other things can by no means be, or be understood, apart
from or outside him. Wherefore we may say with all 10
reason that God is a cause of all things.

As it is usual to divide the efficient cause in eight
divisions, let me, then, inquire how and in what sense God
is a cause.

First, then, we say that he is an emanative or productive cause
of his works ; and, in so far as there is activity, an active or
operating cause, which we regard as one and the same,
because they involve each other.

Secondly, he is an immanent, and not a transeunt cause,
since all that he produces is within himself, and not outside 20
him, because there is nothing outside him.

Thirdly, God is a free cause, and not a natural cause, as
we shall make clear and manifest when we come to consider
whether God can omit to do what he does, and then it will also
be explained wherein true freedom consists.

t The [attributes] following are called Propria, because they are
only Adjectives, which cannot be understood without their Substan
tives. That is to say, without them God would indeed be no God,
but still it is not they that constitute God ; for they reveal nothing of
the character of a Substance, through which alone God exists. 30

42 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i Fourthly, God is a cause through himself, and not by
accident ; this will become more evident from the discussion
on Predestination.

Fifthly, God is a principal cause of his works which he has
created immediately, such as movement in matter, &c. ; in
which there is no place for a subsidiary [instrumental]
cause, since this is confined to particular things ; as when
he dries the sea by means of a strong wind, and so forth in
the case of all particular things t in Nature.
10 The subsidiary provoking cause is not [found] in God,
because there is nothing outside him to incite him. The
predisposing It cause, on the other hand, is his perfection
itself ; through it he is a cause of himself, and, consequently,
of all other things.

Sixthly, God alone is the first or Initial cause, as is evident
from our foregoing proof.

Seventhly, God is also a Universal cause, but only in so
far as he produces various things ; otherwise this can
never be predicated of him, as he needs no one in order
20 to produce any results.

Eighthly, God is the proximate cause of the things that
are infinite, and immutable, and which we assert to have
been created immediately by him, but, in one sense, he is
the remote cause of all particular things.

J B omits the semi-colon before " as," in the preceding line, and
gives the words " as when . . . particular things " in a note, instead
of in the text.

tt A and B : voorgaande.

CHAPTER IV i

ON GOD S NECESSARY ACTIVITY

WE deny that God can omit to do what he does, and we shall
also prove it when we treat of Predestination ; when we will
show that all things necessarily depend on their causes. But,
in the second place, this conclusion also follows from the
perfection of God ; for it is true, beyond a doubt, that God
can make everything just as perfect as it is conceived in his
Idea ; and just as things that are conceived by him cannot
be conceived by him more perfectly than he conceives them, 10
so all things can be made by him so perfect that they can
not come from him in a more perfect condition. Again, t
when we conclude that God could not have omitted to do
what he has done, we deduce this from his perfection ;
because, in God, it would be an imperfection to be able to
omit to do what he does ; we do not, however, suppose that
there is a subsidiary provoking cause in God that might have
moved him to action, for then he were no God.

But now, again, there is the controversy whether, namely,
of all that is in his Idea, and which he can realise so 20
perfectly, whether, I say, he could omit to realise anything,
and whether such an omission would be a perfection in him.
Now, we maintain that, since all that happens is done by
God, it must therefore necessarily be predetermined by
him, otherwise he would be mutable, which would be a great
imperfection in him. And as this predetermination by him
must be from eternity, in which eternity there is no before
or after, it follows irresistibly that God could never have
predetermined things in any other way than that in which

I B : but. 3 o

43

44 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

1 they are determined now, and have been from eternity, and
that God could not have been either before or without these
determinations. Further, if God should omit to do anything,
then he must either have some cause for it, or not ; if he
has, then it is necessary that he should omit doing it ; if he
has not, then it is necessary that he should not omit to da
it ; this is self-evident. Moreover, in a created thing it is a
perfection to exist and to have been produced by God, for,
of all imperfection, non-existence is the greatest imper-

10 fection ; and since God desires the welfare and perfection
of all things, it would follow that if God desired that a
certain thing should not exist, then the welfare and perfec
tion of this thing must be supposed to consist in its non-
existence, which is self-contradictory. That is why we deny
that God can omit to do what he does. Some regard this as
blasphemy, and as a belittling of God ; but such an assertion
results from a misapprehension of what constitutes hue
freedom ; this is by no means what they think it is, namely,
the ability to do or to omit to do something good or evil ;

20 but true freedom is only, or no other than [the status of being]
the first cause, which is in no way constrained or coerced by
anything else, and which through its perfection alone is the
cause of all perfection ; t consequently, if God could omit
to do this, he would not be perfect : for the ability to omit
doing some good, or accomplishing some perfection in
what he does, can have no place in him, except through
defect, tt

That God alone is the only free cause is, therefore, clear
not only from what has just been said, but also from this,

30 namely, that there is no external cause outside him to force or
constrain him ; all this is not the case with created things.
Against this it is argued thus : The good is only good

J B : but true freedom consists in this, that the first cause, con
strained or coerced by nothing else, through its perfection alone is
the cause of all perfection. JJ B : because it implies defect.

ON GOD S NECESSARY ACTIVITY 45

because God wills it, and this being so, he can always bring i
it about that evil should be good. But such reasoning is
about as conclusive as if I said : It is because God wills to
be God that he is God ; therefore it is in his power not to be
God, which is absurdity itself. Furthermore, when people
do anything, and they are asked why they do it, their answer
is, because it is what justice demands. If the question is
then put, why justice, or rather the first cause of all that is
just, *makes such a demand,* then the answer must be,
because justice wills it so. But, dear me, I think to myself, 10
could Justice really be other than just ? By no means, for
then it could not be Justice. Those, however, who say that
God does all that he does because it is good in itself, these,
I say, may possibly think that they do not differ from us.
But that is far from being the case, since they suppose that
there is something before God I to which he has duties or
obligations, namely, a cause [through] which [God] desires
that this shall be good, and, again, that that shall be just.H
Then comes the further controversy, namely, whether
God, supposing all things had been created by him in some 20
other way from eternity, or had been ordered and pre
determined to be otherwise than they now are, whether, I
say, he would then be just as perfect *as he is now.* To
this it may serve as an answer, that if Nature had, from all
eternity, been made different from what it is now, then, from
the standpoint of those who ascribe to God will and under
standing, it would necessarily follow that God had a different
will and a different understanding then, lit in consequence
of which he would have made it different ; and so we should
be compelled to think that God tttt has a different character 30

I B : Goodness (Goed instead of God).

It B : ... obligations, because of a desire that this shall be
good, and that, again, just.

: " than now " (als nu) instead of " then " (als doen).
B omits the eleven words which follow (" has . . . and ").

D

46 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i now from what he had then, and had a different character
then from what he has now ; so that, if we assume he
is most perfect now, we are compelled to say that he would
not have been so had he created all things differently. All
these things, involving as they do palpable absurdities, can
in no way be attributed to God, who now, in the past, and
unto all eternity, is, has been, and will remain immutable.
We prove this also from the definition that we have given
of a free cause, which is not one that can do or omit to do

10 anything, but is only such as is not dependent on anything
else, so that whatever God does is done and carried into
effect by him as the freest I cause. If, therefore, he had
formerly made things different from what they are now, it
would needs follow that he was at one time imperfect, which
is falsest For, since God is the first cause of all things,
there must be something in him, through which he does
what he does, and omits not to do it. Since we say that
Freedom does not consist in [having the choice of] doing or
not doing something, and since we have also shown that

20 that which makes him [God] do anything can be nothing
else than his own perfection, we conclude that, had it not
been that his perfection made him do all this, then the things
would not exist, and could not come into existence, in order to
be what they are now. This is just like saying : if God were
imperfect then things would be different from what they are
now.H

So much as regards the first [attribute] ; we shall now
pass on to the second attribute, which we call a proprium
of God, and see what we have to say about it, and so on to

3 o the end.

J A : wisest (alderwijste instead of aldervrijste ; corrected in B).
JJ B omits this sentence.

CHAPTER V i

ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE

THE second attribute, which we call a proprium [of God] is
his Providence, which to us is nothing else than the striving
which we find in the whole of Nature and in individual
things to maintain and preserve their own existence. For
it is manifest that no thing could, through its own nature,
seek its own annihilation, but, on the contrary, that every
thing has in itself a striving to preserve its condition, and
to improve itself. Following these definitions of ours we, 10
therefore, posit a general and a special providence. The
general [providence] is that through which all things are
produced and sustained in so far as they are parts of the
whole of Nature. The special providence is the striving of
each thing separately to preserve its existence [each thing,
that is to say], considered not as a part of Nature, but as a
whole [by itself]. This is explained by the following example :
All the limbs of man are provided for, and cared for, in so
far as they are parts of man, this is general providence ;
while special [providence] is the striving of each separate 20
limb (as a whole in itself, and not as a part of man) to
preserve and maintain its own well-being.

47

, CHAPTER VI

ON DIVINE PREDESTINATION

THE third attribute, we say, is divine predestination.

1. We proved before that God cannot omit to do what
he does ; that he has, namely, made everything so perfect
that it cannot be more perfect.

2. And, at the same time, that without him no thing can
be, or be conceived.

It remains to be seen now whether there are in Nature

10 any accidental things, that is to say, whether there are

any things which may happen and may also not happen.

Secondly, whether there is any thing concerning which we

cannot ask why it is.

Now that there are no accidental things we prove thus :
That which has no cause to exist cannot possibly exist ;
that which is accidental has no cause : therefore . . .

The first is beyond all dispute ; the second we prove

thus : If any thing that is accidental has a definite and

certain cause why it should exist, then it must necessarily

20 exist ; but that it should be both accidental and necessary

at the same time, is self-contradictory ; Therefore . . .

Perhaps some one will say, that an accidental thing has
indeed no definite and certain cause, but an accidental
one. If this should be so, it must be so either in sensu diviso
or in sensu composite, that is to say, either the existence of
the cause is accidental, and not its being a cause ; or it is
accidental that a certain thing (which indeed must neces
sarily exist in Nature) should be the cause of the occurrence
of that accidental thing. However, both the one and the
30 other are false.

48

ON DIVINE PREDESTINATION 49

For, as regards the first, if the accidental something is i
accidental because [the existence of] its cause is accidental,
then that cause must also be accidental, because the cause
which has produced it is also accidental, etsic in infinitum.

And since it has already been proved, that all things
depend on one single cause, this cause would therefore also
have to be accidental : which is manifestly false.

As regards the second : if the cause were no more com
pelled to produce one thing than another, that is, [if the
cause were no more compelled] to produce this something 10
than not to produce it, then it would be impossible at once
both that it should produce it and that it should not produce
it, which is quite contradictory.

Concerning the second [question raised] above, whether
there is no thing in Nature about which one cannot ask why it
is, this remark of ours shows that we have to inquire through
what cause a thing is real ; for if this [cause] did not exist
it were impossible that the thing should exist. Now, we
must look for this cause either in the thing or outside the
thing. If, however, any one should ask for a rule whereby 20
to conduct this inquiry, we say that none whatever seems
necessary. For if existence pertains to the nature of a thing,
then it is certain that we must not look outside it for its cause ;
but if such is not the case, then we must always look outside
the thing for its cause. Since, however, the first pertains
to God alone, it is thereby proved (as we have already also
proved before) that God alone is the first cause of all things.
From this it is also evident that this or that will of man (since
the existence of the will does not pertain to its essence) must
also have an external cause, by which it is necessarily 3
caused ; that this is so is also evident from all that we have
said in this chapter ; and it will be still more evident when,
in the second part, we come to consider and discuss the
freedom of man.

Against all this others object : how is it possible that

50 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i God, who is said to be supremely perfect, and the sole
cause, disposer, and provider of all, nevertheless permits
such confusion to be seen everywhere in Nature? Also,
why has he not made man so as not to be able to sin?

Now, in the first place, it cannot be rightly said that
there is confusion in Nature, since nobody knows all the
causes of things so as to be able to judge accordingly.
This objection, however, originates in this kind of ignorance,
namely, that they have set up general Ideas, with which,

10 they think, particular things must agree if they are to be
perfect. These Ideas, they state, are in the understanding
of God, as many of Plato s followers have said, namely, that
these general Ideas (such as Rational, Animal,! and the like)
have been created by God ; and although those who follow
Aristotle say, indeed, that these things are not real things,
only things of Reason, they nevertheless regard them
frequently as [real] things, since they have clearly said that
his providence does not extend to particular things, but
only to kinds ; for example, God has never exercised his

20 providence over Bucephalus, &c., but only over the whole
genus Horse. They say also that God has no knowledge
of particular and transient things, but only of the general,
which, in their opinion, are imperishable. We have, how
ever, rightly considered Jt this to be due to their ignorance.
For it is precisely the particular things, and they alone, that
have a cause, and not the general, because they are
nothing.

God then is the cause of, and providence over, particular
things only. If particular things had to conform to some

3 o other Nature, then they could not conform to their own,
and consequently could not be what they truly are. For
example, if God had made all human beings like Adam
before the fall, then indeed he would only have created
Adam, and no Paul nor Peter ; but no, it is just perfection
\ B : Rational- Animal. tt B : to consider.

ON DIVINE PREDESTINATION 51

in God, that he gives to all things, from the greatest to the i
least, their essence, or, to express it better, that he has all
things perfectly in himself.

As regards the other [objection], why God has not made
mankind so that they should not sin, to this it may serve [as
an answer], that whatever is said about sin is only said
with reference to us, that is, as when we compare two things
with each other, or [consider one thing] from different
points of view. For instance, if some one has made a clock
precisely in order to strike and to show the hours, and the 10
mechanism quite fulfils the aims of its maker, then we say that
it is good, but if it does not do so, then we say that it is bad,
notwithstanding that even then it might still be good if only
it had been his intention to make it irregular and to strike
at wrong times.

We say then, in conclusion, that Peter must, as is
necessary, conform to the Idea of Peter, and not to the
Idea of Man ; good and evil, or sin, these are only modes
of thought, and by no means things, or any thing that has
reality, as we shall very likely show yet more fully in what 20
follows. For all things and works which are in Nature
are perfect.

CHAPTER VII

ON THE ATTRIBUTES WHICH DO NOT PERTAIN
TO GOD

HERE we shall take up the consideration of those attributes f
which are commonly attributed to God, but which, never
theless, do not pertain to him ; as also of those through
which it is sought to prove the existence of God, though
in vain ; and also of the rules of accurate definition.

For this purpose, we shall not trouble ourselves very
10 much about the ideas that people commonly have of God,
but we shall only inquire briefly into what the Philosophers
can tell us about it. Now these have defined God as a
being existing through or of himself, cause of all things.
Omniscient, Almighty, eternal, simple, infinite, the highest
good, of infinite compassion, &c. But before we approach
this inquiry, let us just see what admissions they make
to us.

f As regards the attributes of which God consists, they are only
infinite substances, each of which must of itself be infinitely perfect.

20 That this must necessarily be so, we are convinced by clear and
distinct reasons. It is true, however, that up to the present only
two of all these infinites are known to us through their own essence;
and these are thought and extension. All else that is commonly
ascribed to God is not any attribute of his, but only certain modes
which may be attributed to him either in consideration of all, that
is, all his attributes, or in consideration of one attribute. In con
sideration of all [it is said], for instance, that he is eternal, self-
subsisting, infinite, cause of all things, immutable. In consideration
of one [it is said], for instance, that he is omniscient, wise, &c.,

30 which pertains to thought, and, again, that he is omnipresent, fills
all, &c., which pertains to extension.

5 2

ATTRIBUTES NOT PERTAINING TO GOD 53

In the first place, they say that it is impossible to give i
a true or right definition of God, because, according to
their opinion, there can be no definition except per genus
et differentiam, and as God is not a species of any
genus, he cannot be defined rightly, or according to the
rules.

In the second place, they say that God cannot be defined,
because the definition must describe the thing itself and
also positively ; while, according to their standpoint, our
knowledge of God cannot be of a positive, but only of a 10
negative kind ; therefore no proper definition can be given
of God.

They also say, besides, that God can never be proved
a priori, because he has no cause, but only by way of
probability, or from his effects.

Since by these assertions of theirs they admit sufficiently
that their knowledge of God is very little and slight, let us
now proceed to examine their definition.

In the first place, we do not see that they give us in it any
attribute or attributes through which it can be known what 20
the thing (God) is,t but only some propria or properties
which do, indeed, belong to a thing, but never explain what
the thing is. For although self-subsisting, being the cause of
all things, highest good, eternal and immutable, &c., are
peculiar to God alone, nevertheless, from those properties
we cannot know what that being, to whom these properties
pertain, is, and what attributes he has.

It is now also time for us to consider the things which
they ascribe to God, and which do not, however, pertain to
him,t such as omniscient, merciful, wise, and so forth, which 30
things, since they are only certain modes of the thinking
thing, and can by no means be, or be understood without

t That is to say, when he is considered as all that he is, or with
regard to all his attributes ; see on this point page 5 2 n.

I B : through which the thing (namely God) can be known.

54 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i the substances t whose modes II they are, can, con
sequently, also not be attributed to him, who is a Being
subsisting without the aid of anything, and solely through
himself.

Lastly, they call him the highest good ; but if they under
stand by it something different from what they have already
said, namely, that God is immutable, and a cause of all things,
then they have become entangled in their own thought, or
are unable to understand themselves. This is the outcome

10 of their misconception of good and evil, for they believe
that man himself, and not God, is the cause of his sins and
wickedness which, according to what we have already
proved, cannot be the case, else we should be compelled
to assert that man is also the cause of himself. However,
this will appear yet more evident when we come to consider
the will of man.

It is necessary that we should now unravel their specious
arguments wherewith they seek to excuse their ignorance
in Theology.

20 First of all, then, they say that a correct definition must
consist of a " genus " and " differentia." Now, although all the
Logicians admit this, I do not know where they get it from.
And, to be sure, if this must be true, then we can know
nothing whatever. For if it is through a definition con
sisting of genus and differentia that we can first get to know
a thing perfectly, then we can never know perfectly the
highest genus, which has no genus above it. Now then : If
the highest genus, which is the cause of our knowledge of
all other things, is not known, much less, then, can the

30 other things be understood or known which are explained
by that genus. However, since we are free, and do not
consider ourselves in any way tied to their assertions, we
shall, in accordance with true logic, propose other rule s

J B : substance.

tt A: essences (wezens); B: modes (wijzeri).

ATTRIBUTES NOT PERTAINING TO GOD 55

of definition, namely, on the lines of our division of i
Nature.

Now we have already seen that the attributes (or, as
others call them, substances) are things, or, to express our
selves better and more aptly, [constitute] a being which
subsists through itself, and therefore makes itself known and
reveals itself through itself.

As to the other things, we see that they are but modes of
the attributes, without which also they can neither be, nor
be understood. Consequently definitions must be of two 10
kinds (or sorts) :

1. The first, namely, are those of attributes, which pertain
to a self-subsisting being, these need no genus, or anything,
through which they might be better understood or
explained : for, since they exist as attributes of a self-
subsisting being, they also become known through them
selves.

2. The second [kind of definitions] are those [of things]
which do not exist through themselves, but only through
the attributes whose modes they are, and through which, 2 o
as their genus, they must be understood.

And this is [all that need be said] concerning their
statement about definitions. As regards the other [assertion],
namely, that God can [not] be known by us adequately,
this has been sufficiently answered by D. des Cartes in his
answers to the objections relating to these things, page 18.

And the third [assertion], namely, that God cannot be
proved a priori, has also already been answered by us.
Since God is the cause of himself, it is enough that we prove
him through himself, and such a proof is also much more 30
conclusive than the a posteriori proof, which generally rests
only on external causes.

i CHAPTER VIII

ON NATURA NATURANS

HERE, before we proceed to something else, we shall briefly
divide the whole of Nature namely, into Natura naturans
and Natura naturata. By Natura naturans we understand
a being that we conceive clearly and distinctly through
itself, and without needing anything beside itself (like all
the attributes which we have so far described), that is, God.
The Thomists likewise understand God by it, but their
10 Natura naturans was a being (so they called it) beyond all
substances.

The Natura naturata we shall divide into two, a general,
and a particular. The general consists of all the modes
which depend immediately on God, of which we shall treat
in the following chapter ; the particular consists of all the
particular things which are produced by the general mode.
So that the Natura naturata requires some substance J in
order to be well understood.

J A : substances ; B : substance.

CHAPTER IX *

ON NATURA NATURATA

Now, as regards the general Natura naturata, or the modes,
or creations which depend on, or have been created by,
God immediately, of these we know no more than two,
namely, motion in matter,! and the understanding in the
thinking thing. These, then, we say, have been from all
eternity, and to all eternity will remain immutable. A
work truly as great as becomes the greatness of the work-
master. 10

All that specially concerns Motion, such as that it has been
from all eternity, and to all eternity will remain immutable ; that
it is infinite in its kind ; that it can neither be, nor be understood
through itself, but only by means of Extension, all this, I say,
since it [Motion] more properly belongs to a treatise on
Natural Science rather than here,! we shall not consider in
this place, but we shall only say this about it, that it is a
Son, Product, or Effect created immediately by God.

As regards the Understanding in the thinking thing, this,
like the first, is also a Son, Product, or immediate Creation of 20
God, also created by him from all eternity, and remaining
immutable to all eternity. It has but one function, It

t Note. What is here said about motion in matter is not said
seriously. For the Author still intends to discover the cause thereof,
as he has already done to some extent a posteriori. But it can
stand just as it is, because nothing is based upon it, or dependent
thereon. [B omits this note.]

J In A and B the words " since it ... than here " follow
immediately after " Motion," at the beginning of the sentence.

tl Literally : This its attribute is but one. 30

57

58 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

namely, to understand clearly and distinctly all things at all
times ; which produces invariably an infinite or most perfect
satisfaction, which cannot omit to do what it does. Although
what we have just said is sufficiently self-evident, still, we
shall prove it more clearly afterwards in our account of the
Affects of the Soul, and shall therefore say no more about
it here.

CHAPTER X
WHAT GOOD AND EVIL ARE

IN order to explain briefly what good and evil are in them
selves, we shall begin thus :

Some things are in our understanding and not I in Nature,
and so they are also only our own creation, and their pur
pose is to understand things distinctly : among these we
include all relations, which have reference to different things,
and these we call Entia Rationis [things of reason]. Now
the question is, whether good and evil belong to the Entia 10
Rationis or to the Entia Realia [real things]. But since good
and evil are only relations, it is beyond doubt that they must
be placed among the Entia Rationis ; for we never say that
something is good except with reference to something else
which is not so good, or is not so useful to us as some other
thing. Thus we say that a man is bad, only in comparison
with one who is better, or also that an apple is bad, in com
parison with another which is good or better.

All this could not possibly be said, if that which is better
or good, in comparison with which it [the bad] is so called, 20
did not exist.

Therefore, when we say that something is good, we only
mean that it conforms well to the general Idea which we
have of such things. But,H as we have already said before,
the things must agree with their particular Ideas, whose
essence must be a perfect essence, and not with the general
*[ Ideas]*, since in that case they would not exist.

As to confirming what we have just said, the thing is clear

J B : not such.

II A: "And therefore"; B: Nevertheless."
59

60 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i to us ; but still, to conclude our remarks, we will add yet
the following proofs :

All things which are in Nature, are either things or
actions. Now good and evil are neither things nor actions.
Therefore good and evil do not exist in Nature.

For, if good and evil are things or actions, then they
must have their definitions. But good and evil (as, for
example, the goodness of Peter and the wickedness of
Judas) have no definitions apart from the essence of Judas

10 or Peter, because this alone exists in Nature, and they can
not be defined without their essence. Therefore, as above
it follows that good and evil are not things or actions
which exist in Nature.

SECOND PART

ON MAN

AND WHAT PERTAINS TO HIM

* PREFACE*

HAVING, in the first part, discoursed on God, and on the
universal and infinite things, we shall proceed now, in the
second part, to the treatment of particular and finite things ;
though not of all, since they are innumerable, but we shall
only treat of those which concern man ; and, in the first
place, we shall consider here what man is, in so far as he
consists of certain modes (contained in the two attributes
which we have remarked in God). I say of certain modes,
for I by no means think that man, in so far as he consists of Jo
spirit, soul,f or body, is a substance. Because, already at the

f i. Our soul is either a substance or a mode; it is not a sub
stance, because we have already shown that there can be no finite
substance ; it is therefore a mode.

2. Being a mode, then, it must be such either of "substantial"
extension or of " substantial " thought ; not of extension, because,
&c. ; therefore of thought.

3. " Substantial " Thought, since it cannot be finite, is infinitely
perfect in its kind, and an attribute of God.

4. Perfect thought must have a Knowledge, Idea, or mode of 20
thought of all and everything that is real, of substances as well as

of modes, without exception.

5. We say, that is real, because we are not speaking here of a
Knowledge, Idea, &c., which completely knows the nature of all
things as involved in their essence, apart from their individual
existence, but only of the Knowledge, Idea, &c., of the particular
things which are constantly coming into existence.

6. This Knowledge, Idea, &c., of each particular thing which
happens to be real is, we say, the soul of this particular thing.

7. All and sundry particular things that are real, have become 3
such through motion and rest, and this is true of all the modes of

" substantial " extension which we call bodies.

8. The differences among these result solely from the varying

64 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i beginning of this book, we proved (i) that no substance can
have a beginning ; (2) that one substance cannot produce
another ; and lastly (3), that there cannot be two like sub
stances.

As man has not been in existence from eternity, is finite,
and is like many men, he can be no substance ; so that all that
he has of thought are only modes of the attribute thought which
we have attributed to God. And, again, all that he has of
form, motion, and other things, are likewise [modes] of the

10 other attribute which is attributed *by us* to God.

And although from this, [namely,] that the nature of man
can neither be, nor be understood without the attributes
which we ourselves admit to constitute substance, some try
to prove that man is a substance, yet this has no other
ground than false suppositions. For, since the nature of

proportions of motion and rest, through which this is so, and not
so this is this, and not that.

9. From such proportion of motion and rest comes also the
existence of our body ; of which, consequently, no less than of all

20 other things, there must be a Knowledge, an Idea, &c., in the
thinking thing, and hence at once also our soul.

10. This body of ours, however, had a different proportion of
motion and rest when it was an unborn embryo ; and in due course,
when we are dead, it will have a different proportion again none
the less there was at that time [before our birth], and there
will be then [after death] an idea, knowledge, &c., of our body in
the thinking thing, just as there is now ; but by no means the same
[idea, &c.], since it is now differently proportioned as regards
motion and rest.

30 ii. To produce, in " substantial " thought, such an idea, know
ledge, mode of thought as ours now is, what is required is, not any
body you please (then it would have to be known differently from
what it is), but just such a body having this proportion of motion
and rest, and no other : for as the body is, so is the Soul, Idea,
Knowledge, &c.

12. As soon, then, as a body has and retains this proportion
[which our body has], say, e.g., of i to 3, then that soul and that

PREFACE 65

matter or body existed before the form of this human body i
existed, that nature cannot be peculiar to the human body,
because it is clear that during the time when man was not,
it could never belong to the nature of man.

And what they set up as a fundamental principle, [namely,]
that that pertains to the nature of a thing, without which the
thing can neither be, nor be understood, we deny. For we have
already shown that without God no thing can be or be under
stood. That is, God must first be and be understood before
these particular things can be and be understood. We have 10
also shown that genera do not belong to the nature of
definition, but that only such things as cannot exist
without others, can also not be understood without these.
This being so, what kind of a rule shall we, then, state,
whereby it shall be known what belongs to the nature of a
thing ?

body will be like ours now are, being indeed constantly subject to
change, but to none so great that it will exceed the limits of i to 3 ;
though as much as it changes, so much also does the soul always
change. 20

13. And this change in us, resulting from other bodies acting
upon us, cannot take place without the soul, which always
changes correspondingly, becoming aware of the change. And
[the consciousness of] J this change is really what we call
feeling.Jt

14. But when other bodies act so violently upon ours that the
proportion of motion [to rest] cannot remain i to 3, that means
death, and the annihilation of the Soul, since this is only an Idea,
Knowledge, &c., of this body having this proportion of motion
and rest. 30

15. Still, since it [the soul] is a mode in the thinking substance
it could also know, and love this [substance] as well as that of
extension, and by uniting with substances (which remain always the
same) it could make itself eternal.

I This emendation was suggested by Boehmer.
Jl Gevoel [sensibility ?].

66 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

Well, the rule is this : That belongs to the nature of a
thing, without which the thing can neither be, nor be under
stood ; not merely so, however, but in such wise that the
judgment must be convertible, that is, that the predicate can
neither be, nor be understood without the thing. Of these
modes, then, of which man consists, we shall begin to treat
at the commencement of the following first chapter.

CHAPTER I j

ON OPINION, BELIEF, AND KNOWLEDGE

To begin our consideration of the modes t of which man
consists, we shall state, (i) what they are, (2) their effects,
and (3) their cause.

As regards the first, let us begin with those that are first
known to us : namely, certain ideas or the consciousness
of the knowledge of ourselves, and of the things which are
outside us.

Now we get these ideas ft (i) either merely through I0
belief (which belief arises either from experience, or from
hearsay), (2) or, in the second place, we acquire them by
way of a true belief, (3) or, thirdly, we have them as the
result of clear and distinct conception.

The first is commonly subject to error.

The second and third, however, although they differ from
one another, cannot err.

To make all this somewhat clearer and more intelligible,
we shall give the following illustration taken from the Rule
of Three. 20

Some one ttt has just heard it said that if, in the Rule of
Three, the second number is multiplied by the third, and
then divided by the first, a fourth number will then be
obtained which has the same relation to the third as the

f The modes of which Man consists are ideas, differentiated as
Opinion, true Belief, and clear and distinct Knowledge, produced
by objects, each in its own way.

ft These ideas of this Belief are put first on page 69 ; here and
there they are also called opinion, which they really are.

ttt This one merely forms an opinion, or, as is commonly said, 30
believes through hearsay only. [B omits this note.]

67

68 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i second has to the first. And notwithstanding the possi
bility that he who put this before him might have been
lying, he still made his calculations accordingly, and he did
so without having acquired any more knowledge of the Rule
of Three than a blind man has of colour, so that whatever
he may have said about it, he simply repeated as a parrot
repeats what it has been taught.

Another,t having a more active intelligence, is not so
easily satisfied with mere hearsay, but tests it by some

10 actual calculations, and when he finds that they agree with
it, then he gives credence to it. But we have rightly said
that this one also is subject to error ; for how can he
possibly be sure that his experience of a few particulars can
serve him as a rule for all ?

A third,ff who is not satisfied with hearsay, because it
may deceive, nor with experience of a few particulars,
because this cannot possibly serve as a rule, examines it in
the light of true Reason, which, when properly applied, has
never deceived. This then tells him that on account of

20 the nature of the proportion in these numbers it had to be
so, and could not happen otherwise.

A fourth, fit however, having the clearest knowledge of
all, has no need of hearsay, or experience, or the art of reason
ing, because by his penetration he sees the proportion in t
all such calculations immediately.^

f This one thinks or believes not simply through hearsay, but
from experience : and these are the two kinds of people who have
[mere] opinions. [B omits this note.]

ft This one is certain through true belief, which can never
30 deceive him, and he is properly called a believer.

ttt But this last one is never [merely] of opinion, nor a [mere]
believer, but sees the things themselves, not through something
else, but through the things themselves.

t A: "and"; B: "in."

tt B adds here, in the body of the text, the substance of the
above two notes on the third and fourth kinds of knowledge.

CHAPTER II i

WHAT OPINION, BELIEF, AND CLEAR
KNOWLEDGE ARE

WE come now to the consideration of the effects of the
different grades of knowledge, of which we spoke in the
preceding chapter, and, in passing as it were, we shall
explain what(Opinion, Belief, and clear Knowledge are.

The first [kind of knowledge], then, we call Opinion,
the second Belief, but the third is what we call clear
Knowledge.^ 10

We call it Opinion because it is subject to error, and has
no place when we are sure of anything, but only in those
cases when we are said to guess and to surmise. The second
we call Belief, because the things we apprehend only with
our reason are not seen by us, but are only known to us
through the conviction of our understanding that it must
be so and not otherwise. But we call that clear Knowledge
which comes, not from our being convinced by reasons,
but from our feeling and enjoying the thing itself, and it
surpasses the others by far. 20

After these preliminary remarks let us now turn to their
effects. Of these we say this, namely, that from the first
proceed all the " passions" which are opposed to good
reason ; from the second, the good desires ; and from the
third, true and sincere Love, with all its offshoots.

We thus maintain that Knowledge is the proximate cause
of all the " passions " in the soul. For we consider it once
for all impossible that any one, who neither thinks nor knows
in any of the preceding ways and modes, should be
capable of being incited to Love or Desire or any other 30

mode of Will.

t B omits this sentence.
69

i CHAPTER III

THE ORIGIN OF PASSION. PASSION DUE
TO OPINION

HERE, then, let us see how, as we have said, the passions
derive their origin from opinion. To do this well and
intelligently we shall take some special ones, and prove
what we say by using these as illustrations.

Let Surprise, then, be the first. This is found in one who
knows a thing after the first manner [of Knowledge] ; t for,
10 since from a few particulars he draws a conclusion which is
general, he stands surprised whenever he sees anything
that goes against his conclusion ; t like one who, having
never seen any sheep except with short tails, is surprised
at the sheep from Morocco which have long ones. So it is

J A refers to the following note already here ; B, at the next
semi-colon.

f This should on no account be taken to mean that a formal
inference must always precede astonishment ; on the contrary, it
exists also without that, namely, when we tacitly believe that a thing

20 is [always] so, and not different from what we are accustomed to
see it, hear or think about it, &c. For example, Aristotle says, a
dog is a barking animal, therefore he concludes, whatever barks is
a dog ; but when a peasant says a dog, he means tacitly just the
same that Aristotle did with his definition. So that when the peasant
hears the barking he says, a dog ; and so, if they had heard some
other kind of animal bark, the peasant, who had drawn no [explicit]
inference, would stand just as astonished as Aristotle, who had drawn
an inference. Furthermore, when we become aware of something
about which we had never thought before, it is not really such the

30 like of which, whether as a whole or in part, we have not known
before, only it is not so constituted in all respects, or we have never
been affected by it in the same way, &c.

70

THE ORIGIN OF PASSION 71

related of a peasant that he had persuaded himself that i
beyond his fields there were no others, but when he hap
pened to miss a cow, and was compelled to go and look for
her far away, he was surprised at the great number of fields
that there were beyond his few acres. And, to be sure, this
must also be the case with many Philosophers who have
persuaded themselves that beyond this field or little globe,
on which they are, there are no more [worlds] (because they
have seen no others). But surprise is never felt by him
who draws true inferences. This is the first. 10

The second is Love.l Since this arises either from true
ideas, or from opinion, or, lastly, from hearsay only, we
shall see first how [it arises] from opinion, then how [it
arises] from [true] ideas ; for the first tends to our ruin, and
the second to our supreme happiness ; and then [we shall
see how it arises] from the last.

t The substance of the next three paragraphs is given in the
following simpler order in B :

The second is Love. This arises either, i, from hearsay, or
2, from opinion, or 3, from true ideas. 20

As regards the first, we generally observe it in the attitude of
children to their father ; because their father tells them this or that
is good they incline towards it, without knowing anything more
about it. We see it also in those who, from Love, give their
lives for the Fatherland, and also in those who from hearsay about
something fall in love with it.

As regards the second, it is certain that whenever any one sees,
or thinks he sees, something good, he is always inclined to unite
himself with it, and, for the sake of the good which he discerns
therein, he chooses it as the best, outside which he then knows 30
nothing better or more agreeable. Yet if ever it happens (as it
mostly does happen in these things) that he gets to know something
better than this good at present known to him, then his love changes
immediately from the one (first) to the other (second). All this we
shall show more clearly when we treat of the freedom of man.

As to love from true ideas, as this is not the place to speak of it,
we shall pass it over for the present. [See note f on page 72.]

72 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i As regards the first, it is certain that whenever any one
sees, or thinks he sees, something good, he is always inclined
to unite himself with it, and, for the sake of the good which
he discerns therein, he chooses it as the best, outside which
he then knows nothing better or more agreeable. Yet if
ever it happens (as it mostly does happen in these things)
that he gets to know something better than this good at
present known to him, then his love changes immediately
from the one (first) to the other (second). All this we shall

10 show more clearly when we treat of the freedom of man.

As to love from true ideas,t since this is not the the place
to speak of it, we shall pass it over now, and speak of the
third, and last, namely, the Love that comes from hearsay
only. This we generally observe in the attitude of children
to their father : because their father tells them that this or
that is good they incline towards it, without knowing any
thing more about it. We see it also in those who from
Love give their lives for the Fatherland, and also in those
who from hearsay about some thing fall in love with it.

20 Next, Hatred, the exact opposite of love, arises from
error which is the outcome of opinion. For when some
one has come to the conclusion that a certain thing is
good, and another happens to do something to the detri
ment of the same thing, then there arises in him a hatred
against the one who did it, and this, as we shall explain
afterwards, could never happen if the true good were
known. For, in comparison with the true good, all indeed
that is, or is conceived, is naught but wretchedness itself ;
and is not such a lover of what is wretched much more

30 deserving of pity than of hatred ?

Hatred, lastly, comes also from mere hearsay, as we see
it in the Turks against Jews and Christians, in the Jews

f Love that comes from true ideas or clear knowledge is not
considered here, as it is not the outcome of opinion ; see, however,
chapter xxii. about it.

THE ORIGIN OF PASSION 73

against the Turks and Christians, in the Christians against the i
Jews and Turks, &c. For, among all these, how ignorant is
the one multitude of the religion and morals of the others !

Desire. Whether (as some will have it) it consists only in
a longing or inclination to obtain what is wanting, or (as
others will have it t) to retain the things which we already
enjoy, it is certain that it cannot be found to have come
upon any one except for an apparent good [sub speciebom].
It is therefore clear that Desire, as also Love which we have
already discussed, is the outcome of the first kind of know- 10
ledge. For if any one has heard that a certain thing is
good, he feels a longing and inclination for the same, as may
be seen in the case of an invalid who, through hearing the
doctor say that such or such a remedy is good for his ailment,
at once longs for the same, *and feels a desire for it.*

Desire arises also from experience, as may be seen in the
practice of doctors, who when they have found a certain
remedy good several times are wont to regard it t as some
thing unfailing.

All that we have just said of these, the same we can say 20
of all other passions, as is clear to every one. And as, in
what follows, we shall begin to inquire which of them are
rational, and which of them are irrational, we shall leave
the subject now, and say no more about it.

What has now been said of these few though most
important [passions] can also be said of all others ; Jt and
with this we conclude the subject of the Passions which
arise from Opinion.

f The first definition is the best, because when the thing is
enjoyed the desire ceases ; the form [of consciousness] which then 30
prompts us to retain the thing is not desire, but a fear of losing the
thing loved.

t B : are wont to resort to it.

t| B omits the first half of the concluding sentence ( What . . .
others ").

i CHAPTER IV

WHAT COMES FROM BELIEF ; AND ON THE GOOD
AND EVIL OF MAN

SINCE we have shown in the preceding chapter how the
Passions arise from the error of Opinion, let us now see
here the effects of the two other modes of Knowing. And
first of all, [the effect] of what we have called True
Belief.t

This shows us, indeed, what a thing ought to be, but not
10 what it really is. And this is the reason why it can never
unite us with the object of our belief. I say, then, that it
only teaches us what the thing ought to be, and not what it
is ; between these two there is a great difference. For, as
we remarked a propos of the example taken from the rule of
three, when any one can, by the aid of proportion, find a
fourth number that shall be related to the third as the second
is to the first, then (having used division and multiplication)
he can say that the four numbers must be proportional ;

f Belief is a strong proof based on Reasons, whereby I am con-
20 vinced in my mind that the thing is really, and just such, outside
my understanding, as I am convinced in my mind that it is. I say,
a strong proof based on Reasons, in order thereby to distinguish it
both from Opinion, which is always doubtful and liable to error, and
from Knowledge which does not consist in being convinced by
Reasons, but in an immediate union with the thing itself. I say,
that the thing is really and just such outside my understanding
really, because reasons cannot deceive me in this, for otherwise they
would not be different from opinion. Just such, for it can only tell
me what the thing ought to be, and not what it really is, otherwise
30 it would not be different from Knowing. Outside, for it makes us
enjoy intellectually not what is in us, but what is outside us.

74

ON THE GOOD AND EVIL OF MAN 75

and although that is so, he speaks of it none the less as of a i
thing that is beyond him. But when he comes to see the
proportion in the way which we have shown in the fourth J
example, then he says with truth that the thing is so, because
then it is in him and not beyond him. * Let * this * suffice *
as regards the first [effect].

The second effect of true belief is that it brings us to a
clearer understanding, through which we love God, and thus
it makes us intellectually aware of the things which are not
in us, but outside us. 10

The third effect is, that it gives us the knowledge of good
and evil, and shows us all the passions which should be
suppressed. And as we have already said that the passions
which come from opinion are liable to great evil, it is worth
the pains to see how these also are sifted out by this second
kind of knowledge, so that we may see what is good and
what is bad in them.

To do so conveniently, let us, using the same method as
before, look at them closely, so that we may know through
it which of them should be chosen and which rejected, ao
But, before proceeding to this, let us first state briefly what
is the good and evil of man.

We have already said before that all things are necessarily
what they are, and that in Nature there is no good and no evil.
So that whatever we want man to be * [in this respect] *
must refer to his kind, which is nothing else than a thing of
Reason. And when we have conceived in our mind an Idea
of a perfect man, it should make us look (when we examine
ourselves) to see whether we have any means of attaining to
such perfection. 30

Hence, then, whatever advances us towards perfection,
we call good, and, on the contrary, what hinders, or also
what does not advance us toward it, bad.

I must therefore, I say, conceive a perfect man, if I want
I A : third ; B : fourth.

76 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i to assert anything concerning the good and evil of man,
because if I were to consider the good and evil * of some
individual man,* say, e.g., of Adam, I should be confusing a
real thing (ens reale) with a thing of Reason (ens Rationis],
which must be most scrupulously avoided by an upright
Philosopher, for reasons which we shall state in the sequel,
or on another occasion. Furthermore, since the destiny of
Adam, or of any other individual creature, is not known to
us except through the result, so * it follows * that what we

10 can say even of the destiny of man must be based on the
idea which our understanding forms of a perfect man,t
which destiny, since it is a thing of Reason, we may well
know ; so also, as already remarked, are good and evil,
which are only modes of thinking.

To come gradually to the point : We have already pointed
out before how the movement, passions, and activities of the
soul arise from ideas, and these ideas we have divided into
four kinds, namely, [according as they are based on] mere
hearsay, experience, belief, clear knowledge. And from

20 what we have now seen of the effects of all these, it is evident
that the fourth, namely, clear knowledge, is the most perfect
of all. For opinion often leads us into error. True belief is
good only because it is the way to true knowledge, and
awakens us to things which are really lovable. So that the
final end that we seek, and the highest that we know, is true
knowledge. But even this true knowledge varies with the
objects that come before it : the better the object is with
which it happens to unite itself, so much the better also is
this knowledge. And, for this reason, he is the most perfect

30 man who is united with God (who is the most perfect being
of all), and so enjoys him.

f For from no individual creature can one derive an Idea that is
perfect ; for the perfection of this object itself, [that is,] whether it
is really perfect or not, cannot be deduced except from a general
perfect Idea, or Ens Rationis.

ON THE GOOD AND EVIL OF MAN 77

Now, in order to find out what is good and bad in the
affects or passions, let us, as suggested, take them one by
one. And first of all, Surprise. This, since it arises either
from ignorance or prejudice, is an imperfection in the
man who is subject to this perturbance. I say an imper
fection, because, through itself, surprise does not lead to
any evil.

i CHAPTER V

ON LOVE

LOVE, which is nothing else than the enjoyment of a thing
and union therewith, we shall divide according to the quali
ties of its object ; the object, that is, which man seeks to
enjoy, and to unite himself with.

Now some objects are in themselves transient; others,
indeed, are not transient by virtue of their cause. There is
yet a third that is eternal and imperishable through its own
10 power and might.

The transient are all the particular things which did not
exist from all time, or I have had a beginning.

The others are all those modes :ft which we have stated to
be the cause of the particular modes.

But the third is God, or, what we regard as one and the
same, Truth.

Love, then, arises from the idea and knowledge that we
have of a thing ; and according as the thing shows itself
greater and more glorious, so also is our love greater.
20 In two ways it is possible to free ourselves from love :
either by getting to know something better, or by discovering
that the loved object, which is held * by us* to be some
thing great and glorious, brings in its train much woe and
disaster.

It is also characteristic of love that we never think
of emancipating ourselves from it (as from surprise and
other passions) ; and this for the following two reasons :
(i) because it is impossible, (2) because it is necessary that
we should not be released from the same.

30 I B : but. H B : the general modes.

78

ON LOVE 79

It is impossible because it does not depend on us, but i
only on the good and useful which we discern in the object ;
it is necessary that these should never have become known
to us, if we would not * or should not * love it ; and this is
not a matter of our free choice, or dependent on us, for
if we knew nothing, it is certain that we should also be
nothing.

It is necessary that we should not be released from it,
because, owing to the weakness of our nature, we could not
exist without enjoying something with which we become 10
united, and from which we draw strength.

Now which of these three kinds of objects are we to
choose or to reject ?

As regards the transient (since, as remarked, we must,
owing to the weakness of our nature, necessarily love
something and become united with it in order to exist), it
is certain that our nature becomes nowise strengthened
through our loving, and becoming united with, these, J
for they are weak themselves, and the one cripple cannot
carry the other. And not only do they not advance us, but 20
they are even harmful to us. For we have said that love is
a union with the object which our understanding judges to be
good and glorious ; and by this we mean such a union
whereby both the lover H and what is loved become one
and the same thing, or together constitute one whole. He,
therefore, is indeed always wretched who is united to
transient things. For, since these are beyond his power,
and subject to many accidents, it is impossible that, when
they are affected, he should be free from these affects. And,
consequently, we conclude : If those who love transient 30
things that have some measure of reality are so wretched,
how wretched must they be who love honour, riches, and
pleasures, which have no reality whatever !

t B : with things which are transient,
tt A and B : love.

8o GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i Let this suffice to show us how Reason teaches us to keep
away from things so fleeting. For what we have just said
shows us clearly the poison and the evil which lurk con
cealed in the love of these things. But we see this yet
incomparably clearer when we observe from what glorious
and excellent a good we are kept away through the enjoy
ment of this.

We said before that the things which are transient are
beyond our power. * But * let us be well understood ; we

10 do not mean to say that we are a free cause depending upon
nothing else ; only when we say that some things are in,
others beyond our power, we mean by those that are in
our power such as we can produce through the order of
or together with Nature, of which we are a part ; by those
which are not in our power, such as, being outside us, are
not liable to suffer any change through us, because they are
very far removed from our real essence as thus fashioned by
Nature.

To proceed, we come now to the second kind of objects,

20 which though eternal and imperishable, are not such through
their own power, t However, if we institute a brief inquiry
here, we become immediately aware that these are only
mere modes which depend immediately on God. And since
the nature of these is such, they cannot be conceived by us
unless we, at the same time, have a conception of God. In
this, since he is perfect, our Love must necessarily rest.
And, to express it in a word, if we use our understanding
aright it will be impossible for us not to love God.

The Reasons why, are clear. First of all, because we find

30 that God alone has essence only, and all other things are
not essences but modes. And since the modes cannot be
rightly understood without the entity on which they im
mediately depend ; and [as] we have already shown before

I B continues : "but are modes which depend immediately on
God " and omits the next sentence.

ON LOVE 81

that if, when loving something, we get to know a better i
thing than that which we then love, we always prefer it
immediately, and forsake the first ; it follows, therefore,
incontrovertibly that when we get to know God, who has all
perfection in himself, we must necessarily love him.

Secondly , if we use our understanding well in acquiring
a knowledge of things, then we must know them in [relation
to] their causes. Now then, since God is a first cause of
all other things, therefore, from the nature of the case
(ex rerum natura), the knowledge of God is, and remains, I0
before the knowledge of all other things : because the
knowledge of all other things must follow from the know
ledge of the first cause. And true love results always from
the knowledge that the thing is glorious and good. What
else, then, can follow but that it can be lavished upon no
one more ardently than upon the Lord our God ? For he
alone is glorious, and a perfect good.

So we see now, how we can make love strong, and also
how it must rest only in God.

What more we had still to say about love, we shall bear 2 o
in mind to say t it when we consider the last kind of
knowledge. In what follows here we shall inquire, as we
promised before, as to which of the passions we are to
entertain, which we are to reject.

A: do.

i CHAPTER VI

ON HATRED

HATRED is an inclination to ward off from us that which has
caused us some harm.! Now it is to be remarked that
we perform our actions in two ways, namely, either with or
without passion. With passion, as is commonly seen in the
[conduct of] masters towards their servants who have done
something amiss. Without passion, as is related of Socrates,
who, when he was compelled to chastise his slave for [the
10 latter s own] good, never did so when he felt that he was
enraged against his slave.

Now that we see that our actions are performed by us
either with, or without passion, we think that it is clear
that those things which hinder or have hindered us
can be removed, when necessary, without any perturba
tion on our part. And so, which is better : that we should
flee from the things with aversion and hatred, or that, with
the strength of reason, we should (for we think it possible)
endure them without loss of temper ? First of all, it is
20 certain that when we do what we have to do without
passion, then no evil can result therefrom. And, since
there is no mean between good and evil, we see that, as
it is bad to do anything in a passion, so it must be good to
act without it.

But let us examine whether there is any harm in fleeing
from things with hatred and aversion.

As regards the hatred which comes from opinion, it is
certain that it should have no place in us, because we know
that one and the same thing is good for us at one time, bad

30 IB: let or hindrance.

82

ON HATRED 83

for us at another time, as is always the case with medicinal i
herbs.

It therefore depends, in the end ; on whether the hatred
arises in us only through opinion, and not also through
true reasoning. But to ascertain this properly we deem it
right to explain distinctly what hatred is, and to distinguish
it from aversion.

Now I say that Hatred is a perturbation of the soul
against some one who has done some ill to us willingly and
knowingly. But aversion is the perturbation which arises I0
in us against a thing on account of some infirmity or injury
which we either know or think is in it by nature. I say, by
nature ; for when we do not suppose * or think* that it is so,
then, even if we have suffered some hindrance or injury from
it, we have no aversion for it, because we may, on the con
trary, expect something useful from it. Thus, when some one
is hurt by a stone or a knife, he does not on that account feel
any aversion for the same.

After these observations let us now briefly consider the
consequences of both of them. From hatred there ensues 20
sorrow ; and when the hatred is great, it produces anger,
which not only, like hatred, seeks to flee from what is hated,
but also to annihilate it, when that is practicable : from this
great hatred comes also envy. But from aversion there
comes a certain sorrow, because we consider ourselves to
be deprived of something which, since it is real, must always
have its essence and perfection.

From what has just been said it may be easily understood
that, if we use our Reason aright, we can feel no hatred or
aversion for anything, because, if we do, we deprive our- 30
selves of that perfection which is to be found in everything.!

t B continues : " while, on the contrary, if we want anything we
must contrive to improve whatever we want from nature, whether
for our own sake, or for the sake of the thing itself " and omits
the next sentence.

84 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i We see likewise with our Reason that we can never [reason-
ably] feel any hatred whatever against anybody, because
whatsoever exists in Nature, if we entertain any wish about
it, then we must always improve it, whether for our sake or
for the sake of the thing itself. And since a perfect man is
the best thing *for us* that we know of all that we have
around us or before our eyes, it is by far the best both for us
and for all people individually that we should at all times seek
to educate them to this perfect state. For only then can we

10 reap the greatest benefit from them, and they from us.
The means thereto is, to give regard to them always in the
manner in which we are constantly taught and exhorted to
do by our good Conscience ; for this never prompts us
to our undoing, but always to our happiness *and well-
being.*

In conclusion, we say that Hatred and Aversion have
in them as many imperfections as Love, on the con
trary, has perfections. For this always produces improve
ment, invigoration, and enlargement, which constitute

20 perfection ; while Hatred, on the contrary, always makes
for desolation, enervation, and annihilation, which con
stitute imperfection itself.

CHAPTER VII i

ON JOY AND SORROW!

HAVING seen that Hatred and Surprise II are such that
we may freely say, that they can have no place in those
who use their understanding as they should, we shall
now proceed in the same manner to speak of the other
passions. To begin with, Desire and Joy shall come first.
Since these arise from the same causes from which love
ensues, we shall only say concerning them that we must
remember and call to mind what we then said ; and with 10
this we leave the subject.

We turn next to Sorrow, of which we may say that it
arises only from opinion and imagination *which follows*
therefrom : for it comes from the loss of some good.

Now we have already remarked above, that whatso
ever we do should tend towards progress and amelioration.
But it is certain that so long as we are sorrowing we render
ourselves unfit to act thus ; on this account it is necessary
that we should free ourselves from it. This we can do by
thinking of the means whereby we may recover what we 20
have lost, if it is in our power to do so. If not, [we must
reflect] that it is just as necessary to make an end of it,ttt
lest we fall a prey to all the miseries *and disasters* which
sorrow necessarily brings in its train. And either course
* must be adopted* with joy ; for it is foolish to try to restore
and make good a lost good by means of a self-sought and
provoked evil.

I B : On Desire and Joy. JJ B : Hatred and Aversion.

ItJ B : Sorrow.

85

86 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i Lastly, he who uses his understanding aright must neces
sarily know God first. Now God, as we have shown, is
the highest good and all that is good. Hence it follows
incontrovertibly, that one who uses his understanding aright
can fall a prey to no sorrow. How should he ? since he
finds repose in that good which is all that is good, and in
which there is the fulness of all joy and contentment.!

Sorrow, then, comes from opinion or want of understand
ing, as explained.!!

10 J B abridges the paragraph as follows : Lastly, he who uses his
understanding aright must necessarily know that God is the first
and the highest ; and rest in him as this supreme good : whence it
follows that, since he finds therein all joy and full contentment, no
sorrow can befall him.

It B omits the last sentence.

CHAPTER VIII T

ON ESTEEM AND CONTEMPT, &c. I

WE shall now proceed to speak of Esteem and Contempt, of
Self-respect and Humility, of Conceit and Culpable Humility.
We shall take them in the above order, and try to distinguish
accurately what is good and what is bad in them.

Esteem and Contempt are felt in so far as we know a thing
to be something great or small, be this great or little thing
in us or outside us.tt

Self-respect does not extend [to anything] outside us, I0
and is only attributed to one who knows the real worth of
his perfection, dispassionately and without seeking esteem
for himself.

Humility is felt when any one knows his own imperfec
tion, without regard to the contempt [of others] for him
self ;JJt so that Humility does not refer to anything outside
the humble man.

Conceit is this, when some one attributes to himself a
perfection which is not to be found in him.

Culpable humility is this, when some one attributes to 20
himself an imperfection which he has not. I am not
speaking of those hypocrites who, without meaning it,

J B enumerates all the topics in the heading of this and the
following chapters.

|J B begins this chapter as follows : In order to distinguish
thoroughly the good and evil in these Passions we shall take them
up in turn, beginning with Esteem and Contempt, which refer to
something known that is in or outside us, the first relating to some
thing great, the last, to something small.

JtJ B : without any self-contempt. 3 o

88 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i humble themselves in order to deceive others ; I but only
of those who really think they have the imperfections which
they attribute to themselves.

From these observations it is sufficiently evident what
good and evil there is in each of these passions. For, as
regards Self-respect and Humility, these showtheir excellence
through themselves. For we say that the possessor there
of knows his perfection and imperfection for what it is.tt
And this, according to what Reason teaches us, is the
10 most important thing for the attainment of our perfection.
Because if we know exactly our powers and perfection, we
see thereby clearly what it is we have to do in order to attain
our good end. And, on the other hand, if we know our
fault and frailty, then we know what we have to avoid.

As regards Conceit and Culpable Humility, the definition
of them already shows * sufficiently* that they arise from a
certain opinion ; for we said that it [conceit] is attributed
to one who ascribes to himself a certain perfection, although
he does not possess it, and culpable humility is the precise
20 opposite.

From what has just been said it is evident, then, that just
as Self-respect and True Humility are good and salutary,
so, on the contrary, Conceit and Culpable Humility are bad
and pernicious. For those [Self-respect and True Humility]
not only put their possessor into a very good attitude, but
are also, besides, the right ladder by which we may rise to
supreme bliss. But these [Conceit and Culpable Humility]
not only prevent us from attaining to our perfection, but
also lead us to utter ruin. Culpable Humility is what pre-
30 vents us from doing that which we should otherwise have
to do in order to become perfect ; we see this, for instance,
in the case of the Sceptics, who, just because they deny that

t B : who without really meaning it make a show of humbling
themselves simply in order to deceive others.
B : for their true worth.

ON ESTEEM AND CONTEMPT, &c. 89

man can attain to any truth, deprive themselves thereof i
through this very denial. Conceit *on the other hand* is
what makes us undertake things which tend straight to our
ruin ; as is seen in the case of all those who had the conceit,
and have the conceit, that they stood, and stand, wondrously
well in the opinion of God, and consequently brave fire and
water, and thus, avoiding no danger, and facing every risk,
they die most miserably.

As regards Esteem and Contempt, there is no more to
be said about them, we have only to recall to memory what 10
we said before about Love.

i CHAPTER IX

ON HOPE AND FEAR, &c.

WE shall now begin to speak of Hope and Fear, of Confi
dence, Despair, and Vacillation, of Courage, Boldness and
Emulation, of Pusillanimity and Timidity, *and lastly of
Jealousy,* and, as is our wont, we shall take them one by
one, and then indicate which of these can hinder us, and
which can profit us. We shall be able to do all this very
easily, if only we attend closely to the thoughts that we can
10 have about a thing that is yet to come, be it good, be it
bad.

*The ideas which we have about things have reference
either

1. To the things themselves ; or,

2. To the person who has the ideas.*

The ideas that we have as regards the thing itself are
these, either the thing is regarded by us as accidental, that
is as something which may come or may not come, or [we
think] that it necessarily must come. So much as regards

20 the thing itself.

Next, as regards him who thinks about the thing, the
case is this : he must do something either in order to
advance the thing, or in order to prevent it. Now from
these thoughts all these passions result as follows : when
we think that a certain thing which is yet to come is good
and that it can happen, the soul assumes, in consequence of
this, that form which we call hope, which is nothing else
than a certain kind of joy, though mingled with some
sorrow.

30 And, on the other hand, if we judge that that which may

90

ON HOPE AND FEAR, &c. 91

be coming is bad, then that form enters into our soul which i
we call fear.

If, however, the thing is regarded by us as good, and, at
the same time, as something that necessarily must come,
then there comes into the soul that repose which we call
confidence ; which is a certain joy not mingled with sorrow,
as hope is.

But when we think that the thing is bad, and that it
necessarily must come, then despair enters into the soul ;
which is nothing else than a certain kind of sorrow. 10

So far we have spoken of the passions considered in this
chapter, and given positive definitions of the same, and have
thus stated what each of them is ; we may now proceed in
a converse manner, and define them negatively. We hope
that the evil may not come, we fear lest the good should not
come, we are confident that the evil will not come, we despair
because the good will not come.

Having said this much about the passions in so far as
they arise from our thoughts concerning the thing itself,
we have now to speak of those which arise from the 20
thoughts relating to him who thinks about the thing ;
namely :

If something must be done in order to bring the thing
about, and we come to no decision concerning it, then the
soul receives that form which we call vacillation. But when
it makes a manly resolve to produce the thing, and this can
be brought about, then that is called courage ; and if the
thing is difficult to effect, then that is called intrepidity or
bravery.

When, however, some one decides to do a thing because 30
another (who had done it first) has met with success, then
we call it emulation. * Lastly,*

If any one knows what he must decide to do in order to
advance a good thing, and to hinder a bad one, and yet
does not do so, then we call it pusillanimity ; and when the

92 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i same is very great, we call it timidity. Lastly, jealousness or
jalousie is the anxiety which we feel that we may have
the sole enjoyment and possession of something already
acquired.

Since we know now whence these passions originate, it
will be very easy for us to show which of them are good,
and which are bad.

As regards Hope, Fear, Confidence, Despair, and Jealousy,
it is certain that they arise from a wrong opinion. For, as

10 we have already shown above, all things have their neces
sary causes, and must necessarily happen just as they do
happen. And although Confidence and Despair seem to have
a place in the inviolable order and sequence of causes t *or
to confirm the same,* yet (when the truth of the matter is
rightly looked into) that is far from being the case. For
Confidence and Despair never arise, unless Hope and Fear
(from which they derive their being) have preceded them.
For example, if any one thinks that something, for which
he still has to wait, is good, then he receives that form in

20 his soul which we call Hope ; and when he is confident
about *the aquisition of* the supposed good, his soul gains
that repose which we call Confidence. What we are now
saying about confidence, the same must also be said about
Despair. But, according to that which we have said about
Love, this also can have no place in a perfect man : be
cause they presuppose things which, owing to the mutability
to which they are subject (as remarked in our account of
Love), we must not become attached to ; nor (as shown in
our account of Hatred) may we even have an aversion to

30 them. The man, however, who persists in these passions
is at all times subject to such attachment and aversion.

As regards Vacillation, Pusillanimity, and Timidity, these
betray their imperfection through their very character and
nature : for whatsoever they do to our advantage comes
I A adds here : (because there all is inviolable and unalterable.)

ON HOPE AND FEAR, &c. 93

only negatively from the effects of their nature. For i
example, some one hopes for something which he thinks
is good, although it is not good, yet, owing to his vacilla
tion or pusillanimity, he happens to lack the courage neces
sary for its realisation, and so it comes about that he is
negatively or by accident saved from the evil which he
thought was good. These *Passions,* therefore, can also
have no place whatever in the man who is guided by true
Reason.

Lastly, as regards Courage, Boldness, and Emulation, 10
about these there is nothing else to be said than that which
we have already said about Love and Hatred.

i CHAPTER X

ON REMORSE AND REPENTANCE

ON the present occasion we shall speak, though briefly,
about remorse and repentance. These never arise except as
the result of rashness ; because remorse comes only from
this, that we do something about which we are then in
doubt whether it is good, or whether it is bad ; and repent
ance, from this, that we have done something which is
bad.

10 And since many people (who use their understanding
aright) sometimes (because they lack that habitual readiness
which is required in order that the understanding may at
all times be used aright) go astray, it might perchance be
thought that such Remorse and Repentance might soon set
them right again, and thence it might be inferred, as the
whole world does infer, that they are good.! If, however,
we will get a proper insight into them, we shall find that
they are not only not good, but that they are, on the con
trary, pernicious, and that they are consequently bad. For

20 it is obvious that we always succeed better through Reason
and the love of truth than through remorse and sorrow.
They are, therefore, pernicious and bad, because they are
a certain kind of sorrow, which [sorrow] we have already
shown above to be injurious, and which, for that reason,
we must try to avert as an evil, and consequently we
must likewise shun and flee from these also, which are
like it.

J B continues : but, on the other hand, when we look into the
matter thoroughly the case is quite otherwise, for we shall find that
30 they are not only not good . . .

94

CHAPTER XI i

ON DERISION AND JESTING

DERISION and jesting rest on a false opinion, and betray an
imperfection in him who derides and jests.

The opinion on which they rest is false, because it is
supposed that he who is derided is the first cause of the
effects which he produces, and that they do not necessarily
(like the other things in Nature) depend on God. They
betray an imperfection in the Derider ; because either that
which is derided is such that it is derisible, or it is not 10
such. If it is not such, then it shows bad manners, to
deride that which is not to be derided ; if it is such, then
they [who deride it] show thereby that they recognise some
imperfection in that which they deride, which they ought to
remedy, not by derision, but much rather by good reasoning.

Laughter does not refer to another, but only to the man
who observes some good in himself ; and since it is a
certain kind of Joy, there is nothing else to be said about
it than what has already been said about Joy. 1 speak of
such laughter as is caused by a certain Idea which provokes t 20
one to it, and not at all of such laughter as is caused by
the movement of the [vital] spirits ; as to this (since it has
no reference to good or to evil) we had no intention to
speak of it here.

As to Envy, Anger, Indignation, we shall say nothing
about them here, but only just refer back to what we have
already said above concerning hatred.

t B continues thus : the laugher thereto without any reference to
good or evil, and not at all of such laughter as is caused in him
by the movement of the [vital] spirits ; it was not our intention to 30
speak of this. Again, . . .

95

i CHAPTER XII

ON GLORY, SHAME, AND SHAMELESSNESS

WE shall now also briefly consider glory, shame, and shame-
lessness.l The first tt is a certain kind of Joy which every
one feels in himself whenever he becomes aware that his
conduct is esteemed and praised by others, without regard
to any other advantage or profit which they may have in
view.

Shame is a certain * kind of * sorrow which arises in one
10 when he happens to see that his conduct is despised by
others, without regard to any other disadvantage or injury
that they may have in view.

Shamelessness is nothing else than a want, or shaking off,
of shame, not through Reason, but either from innocence
of shame, as is the case with children, savage people, &c.,
or because, having been held in great contempt, one goes
now to any length without regard for anything.

Now that we know these passions, we also know, at the
same time, the vanity and imperfection which they have in
20 them. For Glory and Shame are not only of no advantage,
because of what we have observed in their definitions, but
also (inasmuch as they are based on self-love, and on the
opinion that man is the first cause of his action, and there
fore deserving of praise and blame) they are pernicious and
must be rejected.

I will not, however, say that one ought to live among
men in the same way that one would live away from them,
where Glory and Shame have no place ; quite the contrary,

t B omits this sentence.

S o tt A : De eerste [The first] ; B : De eere [Glory].

96

ON GLORY, SHAME, AND SHAMELESSNESS 97

I admit that we are not only free to utilise them, when we i
apply them in the service of mankind and for their
amelioration, but that we may even do so at the price of
curtailing our o\vn (otherwise perfect and legitimate)
freedom. For example : if any one wears costly clothes in
order to be respected, he seeks a Glory which results from
his self-love without any consideration for his fellow-men ;
but when some one observes that his wisdom (wherewith
he can be of service to his neighbours) is despised and
trampled under foot * simply * because he is dressed in I(
shabby clothes, then he will do well if (from the motive to
help them) he provides himself with clothes to which they
cannot take exception, thereby becoming like his fellow-
man in order that he may win over his fellow-man.

Further, as regards Shamelessness, this shows itself to
be such that in order to see its deformity all that we need
is merely its definition, and that will be enough for us.

i CHAPTER XIII

ON FAVOUR, GRATITUDE, AND INGRATITUDE

Now follows [the consideration] of favour, gratitude, and
ingratitude. As regards the first two, they are the inclina
tions which the soul has to wish and to do some good to
one s neighbour. I say, to wish, [this happens] when good
is returned to one who has done some good ; I say, to do,
[this is the case] when we ourselves have obtained or received
some good.

I0 I am well aware that almost all people consider these
affects to be good ; but, notwithstanding this, I venture to say
that they can have no place in a perfect man. For a perfect
man is moved to help his fellow-man by sheer necessity
only, and by no other cause, and therefore he feels it all
the more to be his duty to help the most godless, seeing
that his misery and need are so much greater.

Ingratitude is a disregard * or shaking off * of Gratitude,
as Shamelessness is of Shame, and that without any rational
ground, but solely as the result either of greed or of

20 immoderate self-love ; and that is why it can have no place
in a perfect man.

98

CHAPTER XIV i

ON GRIEF

GRIEF shall be the last of which we shall speak in our treat
ment of the passions, and with it we will conclude. Now
grief is a certain kind of sorrow arising from the contem
plation of some good which we have lost, and [lost] in such
a way that there is no hope of recovering the same. It makes
its imperfection so manifest that as soon as we only examine
it we think it bad. For we have already shown above
that it is bad to bind and link ourselves to things which 10
may easily, or at some time, fail us, and which we cannot
have when we want them. And since it is a certain kind
of sorrow, we have to shun it, as we have already remarked
above, when we were treating of sorrow.

I think, now, that I have already shown and proved
sufficiently that it is only True Belief or Reason that leads
us to the knowledge of good and evil. And so when we
come to prove that Knowledge is the first and principal
cause t of all these passions, it will be clearly manifest that
if we use our understanding and Reason aright, it should 20
be impossible for us ever to fall a prey to one of these
* passions* which we ought to reject. I say our Under
standing, because I do not think that Reason alone is com
petent to free us from all these : as we shall afterwards show
in its proper place.

We must, however, note here as an excellent thing about
the passions, that we see and find that all the passions which

I B omitted " cause," but the word seems to have been inserted
recently perhaps by Van Vloten, as a marginal pencil note
suggests. 30

99

TOO GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i are good are of such kind and nature that we cannot be or
exist without them, and that they belong, as it were, to our
essence ; such is the case with Love, Desire, and all that
pertains to love.

But the case is altogether different with those which are
bad and must be rejected by us ; seeing that we cannot
only exist very well without these, but even that only then,
when we have freed ourselves from them, are we really what
we ought to be.

10 To give still greater clearness to all this, it is useful to
note that the foundation of all good and evil is Love
bestowed on a certain object : for if we do not love that object
which (nota bene) alone is worthy of being loved, namely,
God, as we have said before, but things which through
their very character and nature are transient, then (since
the object is liable to so many accidents, ay, even to
annihilation) there necessarily results hatred, sorrow, &c.,
according to the changes in the object loved. Hatred,
when any one deprives him of what he loves. Sorrow,

20 when he happens to lose it. Glory, when he leans on self-
love. Favour and Gratitude, when he does not love his
fellow-man for the sake of God.

But, in contrast with all these, when man comes to love
God who always is and remains immutable, then it is
impossible for him to fall into this welter of passions.
And for this reason we state it as a fixed and immovable
principle that God is the first and only cause of all our
good and delivers us from all our evil.

Hence it is also to be noted * lastly,* that only Love, &c.,

30 are limitless : namely, that as it increases more and more,
so also it grows more excellent, because it is bestowed on
an object which is infinite, and can therefore always go
on increasing, which can happen in the case of no other
thing except this alone. And, maybe, this will after-

ON GRIEF 101

wards give us the material from which we shall prove i
the immortality of the soul, and how or in what way this
is possible.!

Having so far considered all that the third kind of It
effect of true belief makes known we shall now proceed to
speak, * in what follows,* of the fourth, and last, effect
which was not stated by us on page 75-111

B : And this will give us the material from which we shall, in
the 23rd chapter, make out a case for, and prove, the immortality
of the Soul. [A marginal note in A also refers to chapter xxiii.] 10

It A and B : or.

~t~tt A gives this sentence in a foot-note B in the body of the
text, as above.

CHAPTER XV
i ON THE TRUE AND THE FALSE

LET us now examine the true and the false, which indicate
to us the fourth, and last, consequence of true belief. Now,
in order to do this, we shall first state the definitions of
Truth and Falsity. Truth is an affirmation (or a denial)
made about a certain thing, which agrees with that same
thing ; and Falsity is an affirmation (or a denial) about a
thing, which does not agree with the thing itself. But this

10 being so, it may appear that there is no difference between
the false and the true Idea, or, since the [affirmation or]
denial of this or that are mere J modes of thought, and
[the true and the false Idea] differ in no other way II
except that the one agrees with the thing, and the other
does not, that they are therefore, not really, but only
logically Jtt different ; and if this should be so, one may
justly ask, what advantage has the one from his Truth, and
what harm does the other incur through his falsity ? and
how shall the one know that his conception or Idea agrees

20 with the thing more than the other does ? lastly, whence
does it come that the one errs, and the other does not ?

To this it may, in the first place, serve as an answer that
the clearest things of all make known both themselves and

| Literally " true," but the translator probably mistook merus
for verus.

It In B this sentence begins as follows : " But since the affirma
tion or denial of this or that are mere J modes of thought, there
seems to be no difference between the true and the false idea
except that," &c.

30 Itt door reeden [through reason.]

102

ON THE TRUE AND THE FALSE 103

also what is false, in such a manner that it would be a great i
folly to ask how we are to become aware of them : for,
since they are said to be the clearest of all, there can never
be any other clearness through which they might be made
clear ; it follows, therefore, that truth at once reveals itself
and also what is false, because truth is made clear through
truth, that is through itself, and through it also is falsity
made clear ; but falsity is never revealed and made mani
fest through itself. So that any one who is in possession
of the truth cannot doubt that he possesses it, while one o
who is sunk in falsity or in error can well suppose
that he has got at the truth ; just as some one who is
dreaming can well think that he is awake, but one who
is actually awake can never think that he is dreaming.

These remarks also explain to some extent what we
said about God being the Truth, or that the Truth is God
himself.

Now the reason why the one is more conscious of his
truth than the other is, is because the Idea of [his] affirma
tion (or denial) entirely agrees with the nature of the thing, 20
and consequently has more essence.! It may help some to
grasp this better if it be observed that Understanding
(although the word does not sound like it) is a mere or
pure passivity ; that is, that our soul is changed in such a
way that it receives other modes of thought, which it did
not have before. Now when some one, in consequence of
the whole object having acted upon him, receives corre
sponding forms or modes of thought, then it is clear that
he receives a totally different feeling of the form or
character of the object than does another who has not 3
had so many causes [acting upon him], and is therefore
moved to make an affirmation or denial about that thing by

J B : . . . because in the former case the Idea of the affirmation
(or denial) which entirely agrees with the nature of the thing has so
much more essence.

io 4 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

1 a different and slighter action (because he becomes aware
of it only through a few, or the less important, of its attri
butes). t From this, then, we see the perfection of one who
takes his stand upon Truth, as contrasted with one who
does not take his stand upon it. Since the one changes
easily, while the other does not change easily, it follows
therefrom that the one has more stability and essence than
the other has : likewise, since the modes of thought which
agree with the thing have had more causes [to produce

.o them] they have also more stability and essence in them :
and, since they entirely agree with the thing, it is impos
sible that they should after a time be made different or
undergo some change, * all the less so * because we have
already seen before that the essence of a thing is unchange
able. Such is not the case with falsity. And with these
remarks all the above questions will be sufficiently answered.

I Text imperfect. See Commentary.

CHAPTER XVI i

ON THE WILL

Now that we know the nature of Good and Evil, Truth
and Falsity, and also wherein the well-being of a perfect
man consists, it is time to begin to examine ourselves, and
to see whether we attain to such well-being voluntarily or of
necessity.

To this end it is necessary to inquire what the Will is,
according to those who posit a Will,t and wherein it is
different from Desire. Desire, we have said, is the inclina- I0
tion which the soul has towards something which it chooses
as a good ; whence it follows that before our desire inclines
towards something outside, we have already inwardly decided
that such a thing is good, and this affirmation, or, stated
more generally, the power to affirm and to deny, is called
the Will.t

It thus turns on the question whether our Affirmations
are made voluntarily or necessarily, that is, whether we can

t B omits the words " according . . . Will."

t Now the Will, regarded as Affirmation or Decision * is different 20
from true Belief and from Opinion. It * differs from True Belief
in this, that it extends also to that which is not truly good ; and
this is so because it lacks that conviction whereby it is clearly seen
that it cannot be otherwise ; in the case of true belief there is, and
must be, this conviction, because from it none but good desires
emanate.

But it also differs from Opinion in this, that it can sometimes be
quite infallible and certain ; this is not the case with Opinion, which
consists in guessing and supposing.

So that we can call it Belief in so far as it can proceed with 30
certainty, and Opinion in so far as it is subject to error.

105

io6 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i make any affirmation or denial about a thing without some
external cause compelling us to do so. Now we have
already shown that a thing which is not explained t
through itself, or whose existence does not pertain to its
essence, must necessarily have an external cause ; and that
a cause which is to produce something must produce it
necessarily ; it must therefore also follow that each separate
act of willing t this or that, each separate act of affirming
or denying this or that of a thing, these, I say, must also

10 result from some external cause : so also the definition
which we have given of a cause is, that it cannot be
free.

Possibly this will not satisfy some who are accustomed to
keep their understanding busy with things of Reason more

t B : which does not exist.

t It is certain that each separate volition must have an external
cause through which it comes into being ; for, seeing that existence
does not pertain to its essence, its existence must necessarily be due
to the existence of something else.

20 As to the view that the efficient cause JJ thereof is not an Idea
but the human Will itself, and that the Understanding is a cause
without which the will can do nothing, so that the Will in its un
determined form, and also the Understanding, are not things of
Reason, but real entities so far as I am concerned, whenever I
consider them attentively they appear to be universals, and I can
attribute no reality to them. Even if it be so, however, still it must
be admitted that Willing is a modification of the Will, and that the
Ideas are a mode of the Understanding ; the Understanding and
the Will are therefore necessarily distinct, and really distinct sub-

30 stances, because [only] substance is modified, and not the mode
itself. As the soul is said to direct these two substances, it must
be a third substance. All these things are so confused that it is
impossible to have a clear and distinct conception about them.
For, since the Idea is not in the Will, but in the Understanding,
and in consequence of the rule that the mode of one substance
cannot pass over into the other substance, love cannot arise in the

Jt A: the idea of the efficient cause.

ON THE WILL 107

than with Particular things which really exist in Nature ; i
and, through doing so, they come to regard a thing of
Reason not t as such, but as a real thing, tt. For, because
man has now this, now that volition, he forms in his soul a
general mode which he calls Will, just as from this man
and that man he also forms the Idea of man ; ttt and
because he does not adequately distinguish the real things
from the things of Reason, he comes to regard the things
of Reason as things which really exist in Nature, and so he
regards himself as a cause of some things. This happens 10
not infrequently in the treatment of the subject about which
we are speaking. For if any one is asked why people
want this or that, the answer usually given is, because they
have a will. But, since the Will, as we have said, is only

will : because to will something when there is no idea of that thing
in the willing power involves self-contradiction. If you say that
the Will, owing to its union with the Understanding, also becomes
aware of that which the Understanding understands, and thus also
loves it, * one may retort to this : * but since awareness is also
an apprehension, mi it is therefore also a mode of understand- 20
ing ; following the above, however, this cannot be in the Will, even
if its union [with the Will] were like that of the soul and body.
For suppose that the body is united with the soul, as the
philosophers generally maintain, even so the body never feels, nor
does the soul become extended. IltiJ. When they say that the Soul
directs both the Understanding and the Will, this is * not only *
inconceivable, * but even self-contradictory,* because by saying so
they seem to deny that the will is free, which is opposed to their

J B : no more.

tt : B continues : and thus regard themselves as the cause of 30
some things; as happens not infrequently in the matter about which
we are at present speaking.

Jit B continues : if then the question is asked, why people want
this or that, they answer . . .

I A: an apprehension [or "conception"] and a confused idea.
HI 1 1 A continues : For then a Chimera, in which we conceive two sub
stances, might become one ; this is false.

io8 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

* an Idea of our willing this or that, and therefore only a
mode of thought, a thing of Reason, and not a real thing,
nothing can be caused by it ; for out of nothing, nothing
comes. And so, as we have shown that the will is not a
thing in Nature, but only in fancy, I also think it unneces
sary to ask whether the will is free or not free.

I say this not [only] of will in general, which we have
shown to be a mode of thought, but also of the particular
act of willing this or that, which act of willing some have

10 identified with affirmation and denial. Now this should
be clearly evident to every one who only attends to what
we have already said. For we have said that the under-

view. But, to conclude, I have no inclination to adduce all my
objections against positing a created finite substance. I shall only
show briefly that the Freedom of the Will does not in any way
accord with such an enduring creation ; namely, that the same
activity J J is required of God in order to maintain * a thing * in
existence as to create it, and that otherwise the thing could not last
for a moment ; as this is so, nothing can be attributed to it.Jtt

20 But we must say that God has created it just as it is ; for as it
has no power to maintain itself in existence while it exists, much
less, then, can it produce something by itself. If, therefore, any
one should say that the soul produces the volition from itself, then
I ask, by what power ? Not by that which has been, for it is no
more ; also not by that which it has now, for it has none at all
whereby it might exist or last for a single moment, because it is
continuously created anew. Thus, then, as there is no thing that
has any power to maintain itself, or to produce anything, there
remains nothing but to conclude that God alone, therefore, is and

30 must be the efficient cause of all things, and that all acts of Volition
are determined by him * alone.*

In B this paragraph begins thus : " Now in order to understand
whether we are really free, or not free in any particular act of
willing, that is of affirming or denying this or that, we must recall
to our memory what we have already said, namely, ..."

JJ B: . . . such an enduring creation [as they admit; for, if one and the
same activity . . .

HI B: . . . as this is so, no causality can be attributed to the thing.

ON THE WILL 109

standing is purely passive ; it is an awareness, in the i
soul, of the essence and existence of things ; so that it
is never we who affirm or deny something of a thing, but
it is the thing itself that affirms or denies, in us, something
of itself.

Possibly some will not admit this, because it seems to
them that they are well able to affirm or to deny of the
thing something different from what they know about
the thing. But this is only because they have no idea of the
conception which the soul has of the thing apart from or 10
without the words I [in which it is expressed]. It is quite
true that (when there are reasons which prompt us to do so)
we can, in words or by some other means, represent the
thing to others differently from what we know it to be ; but
we can never bring it so far, either by words or by any other
means, that we should feel about the things differently from
what we feel about them ; that is impossible, and clearly so
to all who have for once attended to their understanding
itself apart from the use of words or other significant
signs. 20

Against this, however, some perchance may say : If it is not
we, but the thing itself, that makes the affirmation and denial
about itself in us, then nothing can be affirmed or denied
except what is in agreement with the thing ; and conse
quently there is no falsity. For we have said that falsity
consists in affirming (or denying) aught of a thing which
does not accord with that thing ; that is, what the thing does
not affirm or deny about itself. I think, however, that if
only we consider well what we have already said about Truth
and Falsity, then we shall see at once that these objections 3
have already been sufficiently answered. For we have said
that the object is the cause of what is affirmed or denied

t B : . . . because they make no distinction between the idea
which the soul has of a thing, and the words in which the same is
expressed.

H

no GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i thereof,! be it true or false : * falsity arising thus,* namely,
because, when we happen to know something * or a part *
of an object, we imagine tt that the object (although we only
know very little of it) nevertheless affirms or denies that of
itself as a whole ; this takes place mostly in feeble souls,
which receive very easily a mode or ttt an idea through a
slight action of the object, and make no further affirmation
or denial apart from this.

Lastly, it might also be objected that there are many

10 things which we * sometimes * want and [sometimes also]
do not want, tttt as, for example, to assert something about
a thing or not to assert it, to speak the truth, and not to
speak it, and so forth. But this results from the fact that
Desire is not adequately distinguished from Will, ttttt
For the Will, according to those who maintain that there is
a Will, is only the activity of the understanding whereby
we affirm or deny something about a thing, with regard to
good or evil. Desire, however, is the disposition of the soul
to obtain or to do something for the sake of the good or evil

20 that is discerned therein ; so that even after we have made
an affirmation or denial about the thing, Desire still remains,
namely, when we have ascertained or affirmed that the thing

t A : ... the cause of that about which something is affirmed
or denied ; B : the cause of our affirmation or denial thereof, . . .

tt B continues : that the whole is such ; this takes place . . .

ttt B omits "a mode or."

tttt B continues : or about which we [sometimes] assert some
thing, and [sometimes] do not assert it ...

ttttt B continues as follows : For, although they are both ol
30 them an affirmation or denial of a thing, they nevertheless differ in
this that the last occurs without regard, and the first with reference,
to the good or evil which is discerned in the thing : so that, even
after we have made the affirmation or denial about the thing, the
Desire itself remains, namely, to obtain or to do what we have
ascertained or affirmed to be good, so that the Will may well exist
without the Desire, but not the Desire without the Will.

ON THE WILL in

is good ; such is the Will, according to their statements, i
while desire is the inclination, which we only subsequently
feel, to advance it so that, even according to their own
statements, the Will may well exist without the Desire,
but not the Desire without the Will, which must have
preceded it.

All the activities, therefore, which we have discussed
above (since they are carried out through Reason under the
appearance of good, or are hindered by Reason under the
appearance of evil) can only be subsumed under that inch- 10
nation which is called Desire, and by no means under the
designation of Will, which is altogether inappropriate.

i CHAPTER XVII

ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN WILL
AND DESIRE

Now that it is known that we have no * free * will to make
an affirmation or a denial, let us just see what is the correct
and true distinction between will and desire, or what may
the Will be which was called by the Latins voluntas. t

According to Aristotle s definition, Desire appears to
be a genus containing two species. For he says that the

10 Will is the longing or inclination which one feels towards
that which * is or * seems good. Whence it appears to me
that by Desire (or cupiditas) he means any inclination, be it
towards good, be it towards evil ; but when the inclination
is only towards what is * or appears to be * good, or when
the man who has such inclination, has it under the
appearance of good, then he calls it voluntas or good will ;
while, if it is bad, that is, when we observe in another an
inclination towards something which is bad, tt he calls that
voluptas or bad will. So that the inclination of the soul is

20 not something whereby affirmations or denials are made,
but only an inclination to obtain something which appears
to be good, and ttt to flee from what appears to be bad.

It, therefore, remains to inquire now whether the Desire
is free or not free. In addition to what we have already
said, namely, that Desire depends on the idea of its objects, and
that this understanding must have an external cause, and in
addition also to what we have said about the will, it still

t B adds : or good will.

tt B : and if, on the contrary, it is bad, or towards evil . . .
3 o ttt B : or.

112

DISTINCTION BETWEEN WILL AND DESIRE 113

remains to prove that Desire is not free. Many people, i
although they see quite well that the knowledge which man
has of various things is a medium through which his longing
or inclination passes over from one thing to another, yet
fail to observe what that may be which thus lures the
inclination from the one to the other.

However, to show that this inclination of ours is not of
our own free will (and in order to present vividly before
our eyes what it is to pass over, and to be drawn, from one
thing to another), we shall imagine a child becoming aware 10
of something for the first time. For example, I hold before
him a little Bell, which produces a pleasant sound for his
ears, so that he conceives a longing for it ; consider now
whether he could really help feeling this longing or desire.
If you say, Yes, then I ask, how, through what cause * is this
to happen * ? Certainly not through something which he
knows to be better, because this is all that he knows ; nor,
again, through its appearing to be bad to him, for he knows
nothing else, and this pleasure is the very best that has ever
come to him. But perchance he has the freedom to banish 20
from him the longing which he feels ; whence it would
follow that this longing may well arise in us without our
free will, but that all the same we have in us the freedom to
banish it from us. This freedom, however, will not bear
examination ; for what, t indeed, might it be that shall be
able to annihilate the longing ? The longing itself ? Surely
no, for there is nothing that through its own nature seeks
its own undoing. What then might it ultimately be that
shall be able to wean him from his longing ? Nothing else,
forsooth, except that in the natural order and course of 3
things he is affected by something which he finds more
pleasant than the first. And, therefore, just as, when we were
considering the Will, we said that the human Will is nothing

IB: I say that this freedom will not stand the slightest test.
This will be clearly evident ; for what, . . .

u 4 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i but this and that Volition, so also man has no other than this
and that Desire which is caused by this and that idea ; J
Desire [in the abstract] is not anything actually existing in
Nature, but is only an abstraction from the particular acts
of desiring this or that. Desire, then, as it is not really any
thing, can also not really cause anything. So that when we
say that Desire is free, it is just as much as if we said that
this or that Desire is its own cause that is, that before it
existed it had already arranged that it should exist ; which
10 is absurdity itself, and cannot be.

I B concludes this chapter as follows : If then we say that Desire
is free, it is just as if we had said that this or that Desire is the
cause of itself, and, already before it existed, had brought it about
that it should exist : which is absurdity itself and is impossible.
And Desire, regarded as a universal, being nothing but an abstrac
tion from the particular acts of desiring this or that, and, beyond
this, not actually existing in Nature, can, as such, also cause
nothing.

CHAPTER XVIII i

ON THE USES OF THE FOREGOING

THUS we see now that man, being a part of the whole of
Nature, on which he depends, and by which also he is
governed, cannot of himself do anything for his happiness
and well-being ; let us, then, just see what Uses we can
derive from these propositions of ours. And this [is] all
the more [necessary] because we have no doubt that they
will appear not a little offensive to some.

In the first place, it follows therefrom that we are truly m
servants, aye, slaves, of God, and that it is our greatest
perfection to be such necessarily. For, if we were thrown
back upon ourselves, and thus not dependent on God, we
should be able to accomplish very little, or nothing, and
that would justly give us cause to lament our lot ; especially
so in contrast with what we now see, namely, that we are
dependent on that which is the most perfect of all, in such
a way that we exist also as a part of the whole, that is, of
him ; and we contribute, so to say, also our share to the
realisation of so many skilfully ordered and perfect works, 20
which depend on him. I

Secondly, this knowledge brings it about that we do not
grow proud when we have accomplished something excel
lent (which pride causes us to come to a standstill, because

B : In the first place, because we depend on that which is the
most perfect of all, in such a way that, being also a part of the
whole, that is, of him, we also contribute our share to the realisation
of so many skilfully ordered and perfect works, which depend on
him, it follows therefore that we are God s servants, and that it is
our greatest perfection to be such necessarily. 30

n6 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i we think that we are already great, and that we need do
nothing further ; thereby militating precisely against our
own perfection, which consists in this that we must at all
times endeavour to advance further and further) ; but that,
on the contrary, we attribute all that we do to God, who is
the first and only cause of all that we accomplish and
succeed in effecting.

Thirdly, in addition to the fact that this knowledge
inspires us with a real love of our neighbour, it shapes us

10 so that we never hate him, nor are we angry with him, but
love to help him, and to improve his condition. All these
are the actions of such men as have great perfection or
essence.

Fourthly, this knowledge also serves to promote the
greatest Common Good, because through it a judge can
never side with one party more than with the other, and
when compelled to punish the one, and to reward the other,
he will do it with a view to help and to improve the one as
much as the other.

20 Fifthly, this knowledge frees us from Sorrow, from
Despair, from Envy, from Terror, and other evil passions,
which, as we shall presently say, constitute the real hell
itself.

Sixthly, J this knowledge brings us so far that we cease
to stand in awe of God, as others do of the Devil (whom
they imagine), lest he should do them harm. For why
indeed should we fear God, who is the highest good itself,
through whom all ihings are what they are, and also we
who live in him ?

30 * Seventhly,* this knowledge also brings us so far that we
attribute all to God, love him alone because he is the most
glorious and the most perfect, and thus offer ourselves up
entirely to him ; for these really constitute both the true
service of God and our own eternal happiness and bliss.

J A adds : and lastly.

ON THE USES OF THE FOREGOING 117

For the sole perfection and the final end of a slave and of a i
tool is this, that they duly fulfil the task imposed on them.
For example, if a carpenter, while doing some work, finds
his Hatchet of excellent service, then this Hatchet has thereby
attained its end and perfection ; but if he should think :
this Hatchet has rendered me such good service now,
therefore I shall let it rest, and exact no further service
from it, then precisely this Hatchet would fail of its end,
and be a Hatchet no more. Thus also is it with man, so
long as he is a part of Nature he must follow the laws of 10
Nature, and this is divine service ; and so long as he does
this, it is well with him. But if God should (so to say) will
that man should serve him no more, that would be equiva
lent to depriving him of his well-being and annihilating
him ; because all that he is consists in this, that he serves
God.

i CHAPTER XIX

ON OUR HAPPINESS

Now that we have seen the advantages of this True Belief,
we shall endeavour to fulfil the promise we have made,
namely, to inquire whether through the knowledge which
we already have (as to what is good, what is evil, what truth
is, and what falsity is, and what, in general, the uses of all
these are), whether, I say, we can thereby attain to our well-
being, namely, the Love of God (which we have remarked to
10 be our supreme happiness), and also in what way we can free
ourselves from the passions which we have judged to be bad.
To begin with the consideration of the last, namely, of the
liberation from the passions,! I say that, if we suppose that
they have no other causes than those which we have assigned
to them, then, provided only we use our understanding
aright, as we can do very easily ft (now that we have a

f All passions which come in conflict with good Reason (as is
shown above) arise from Opinion. All that is good or bad in them,
is shown to us by True Belief ; these, however both, or either of

20 the two are not able to free us from them. It is only the third
kind, namely, True Knowledge, that emancipates from them. And
without this it is impossible that we should ever be set free from
them, as will be shown subsequently (page 133). Might not this
well be that about which, though under different designations, others
say and write so much ? For who does not see how conveniently
we can interpret opinion as sin ; belief, as the law which makes sin
known and true knowledge, as grace which redeems us from sin ?
ft Can do very easily ; that is to say, when we have a thorough
knowledge of good and evil : for then it is impossible to be subject

30 to that from which the passions arise : because when we know and
enjoy what is best, that which is worst has no power over us.

118

ON OUR HAPPINESS 119

criterion of truth and falsity), we shall never fall into i
them.

But what we have now to prove is that they have no other
causes ; for this, methinks, it is required that we should
study ourselves in our entirety, having regard to the body
as well as to the spirit.

And first [we have] to show that in Nature there is a body
through whose form and activities we are affected, and thus
become aware of it. And the reason why we do this is,
because when we get an insight into the activities of the 10
body and the effects which they produce, then we shall also
discover the first and foremost cause of all those passions ;
and, at the same time, also that through which all those
passions might be annihilated. From this we shall then also
be able to see whether it is possible to do such a thing by the
aid of Reason. And then we shall also proceed to speak
about our Love of God.

Now to prove that there is a body in Nature, can be no
difficult task for us, now that we already know that God is,
and what God is ; whom we have defined as a being of 20
infinite attributes, each of which is infinite and perfect. And
since extension is an attribute which we have shown to be
infinite in its kind, it must therefore also necessarily be an
attribute of that infinite being. And as we have also already
demonstrated that this infinite being exists, it follows at once
that this attribute also exists.

Moreover, since we have also proved that outside Nature,
which is infinite, there is, and can be, no being, it is clearly
manifest that this effect of body through which we
become aware [of it] can proceed from nothing else than 30
from extension itself, and by no means from something else
which (as some will have it) has extension in an eminent
degree [eminenter] t : for (as we have already shown in the
first chapter) there is no such thing.

J B : which is more excellent than extension.

120 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i We have to remark, therefore, that all the effects which
are seen to depend necessarily on extension must be attri
buted to this attribute ; such as Motion and Rest. For if
the power to produce these did not exist in Nature, then (even
though it [Nature] might have many other attributes) it would
be impossible that these should exist For if a thing is to
produce something then there must be that in it through
which it, rather than another, can produce that something.

What we have just said here about extension, the same
10 we also wish to be regarded as though it had been said about
thought, and * further * about all that is.

It is to be observed further, that there is nothing what
ever in us, but we have the power to become aware of it :
so that if we find that there is nothing else in us except the
effects of the thinking thing and those of extension, then
we may say with certainty that there is nothing else in us.

In order that the workings of both these may be clearly
understood, we shall take them up first each by itself only,
and afterwards both together ; as also the effects of both
20 the one and the other.

Now when we consider extension alone, then we become
aware of nothing else in it except Motion and Rest, from
which we then discover all the effects that result there
from. And these two t modes of body are such that it
is impossible for any other thing to change them, except
only themselves. Thus, for example, when a stone lies still,
then it is impossible that it should be moved by the power
of thought or anything else, but [it may] well [be moved]
by motion, J as when another stone, having greater motion
30 than this has rest, makes it move. Likewise also the moving
stone will not be made to rest except through something
else which has less motion. It follows, accordingly, that no
mode of thought can bring motion or rest into a body. In

f Two modes : because Rest is not Nothing.
I B : by the motion of something else.

ON OUR HAPPINESS 121

accordance, however, with what we observe in ourselves, it i
may well happen that a body which is moving now in one
direction may nevertheless turn aside in another direction ;
as when I stretch out my arm and thereby bring it about
that the [vital] spirits which were already moving in a
different direction,! nevertheless move now in this direction,
though not always, but according to the disposition of the
[vital] spirits, as will be stated presently.

The cause of this can be none other than that the soul,
being an Idea of this body, is united with it in such a way 10
that it and this body, thus constituted, together form a whole.

The most important effect of the other * or thinking *
attribute is an Idea of things, which is such that, accord
ing to the manner in which it apprehends them, there arises
either Love or Hatred, &c. This effect, then, as it implies
no extension, can also not be attributed to the same, but
only to thought ; so that, whatever the changes which
happen to arise in this mode, their cause must on no account
be sought for in extension, but only in the thinking thing.
We can see this, for instance, in the case of Love, which, 20
whether it is to be suppressed or whether it is to be
awakened, can only be thus affected through the idea it
self, and this happens, as we have already remarked, either
because something bad is perceived to be in the object, or
because something better comes to be known.!! Now when
ever these attributes happen to act the one on the other,
there results a passivity which one suffers from the other ;
namely [in the case of extension], through the determination
of movements which we have the power to direct in what
ever direction we please. The process, then, whereby the 3
one comes to be passively affected by the other, is this :

J B : which were already moving, though not in this direction.

H B : either because something good is perceived in the loved
object, or because something bad is perceived in the hated
object.

122 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i namely, the soul in I the body, as has already been remarked,
can well bring it about that the [vital] spirits, which would
otherwise move in the one direction, should nevertheless
move in the other direction ; and since these [vital] spirits
can also be made to move, and therefore directed, by the
body, it may frequently happen that, when the body directs
their movements towards one place, while the soul directs
them towards another place, they bring about and occasion
in us those peculiar fits of depression which we sometimes

10 feel without knowing the reasons why we have them. For
otherwise the reasons are generally well known to us.

Furthermore, the power which the soul has to move the
[vital] spirits may well be hindered also either because the
motion of the [vital] spirits is much diminished, or because
it is much increased. Diminished, as when, having run
much, we bring it about that the [vital] spirits, owing to
this running, impart to the body much more than the usual
amount of motion,!! and by losing this [motion] they are
necessarily that much weakened ; this may also happen

20 through taking all too little food. Increased, as when, by
drinking too much wine or other strong drink, we thereby
become either merry or drunk, and bring it about that the
soul has no power to control the body.

Having said thus much about the influences which the
soul exercises on the body, let us now consider the influences
of the body on the soul. The most important of these, we
maintain, is that it causes the soul to become aware of it,
and through it also of other bodies. This is effected by
Motion and Rest conjointly, and by nothing else : for the

30 body has nothing else than these wherewith to operate ; so
that whatever else comes to the soul, besides this aware
ness, cannot be caused through the body. And as the first

t A and B : the soul and the body.

H B continues thus : in which they had a strong in and
through flow which weakened them.

ON OUR HAPPINESS 123

thing \vhich the soul gets to know is the body, the result is i
that the soul loves it so, and becomes united with it. But
since, as we have already said before, the cause of Love,
Hatred, and Sorrow must not be sought for in the body but
only in the soul (because all the activities of the body must
proceed from motion and rest), and since we see clearly and
distinctly that one love comes to an end as soon as we come
to know something else that is better, it follows clearly from
all this that, // once we get to know God, at least with a know
ledge as clear as that with which we also know our body, then 10
we must become united with him even more closely than we are
with our body, and be, as it were, released from the body. I
say more closely, because we have already proved before that
without him we can neither be, nor be known ; and this is
so because we know and must know him, not through some
thing else, as is the case with all other things, but only
through himself, as we have already said before. Indeed,
we know him better even than we know ourselves, because
without him we could not know ourselves at all.

From what we have said so far it is easily gathered which 2 o
are the chief causes of the passions. For, as regards the
Body with its effects, Motion and Rest, t these cannot
affect the soul otherwise except so as to make themselves
known to it as objects ; and according to the appearances
which they present to it, that is according as they appear
good or bad,t so also is the soul affected by them, and that

t B adds : or their effects.

f But * if it be asked * whence comes it that we know that the
one is good, the other bad ? Answer : Since it is the objects which
cause us to become aware of them, we are affected by the one 30
differently, in proportion than by the other. JJ Now these by which
we are affected most harmoniously (as regards the proportion of
motion and rest, of which they consist) are most agreeable to us,JJI
and as they depart more and more from this [harmonious propor-

H These six words are crossed out in A.
Jit B omits the rest of this sentence.

i2 4 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i [happens] not inasmuch as it is a body (for then the body
would be the principal cause of the passions), but inasmuch
as it is an object like all other things, which would also act
in the same way if they happened to reveal themselves to the
soul in the same way. (By this, however, I do not mean to say
that the Love, Hatred, and Sorrow which proceed from the
contemplation of incorporeal things produce the same effects
as those which arise from the contemplation of corporeal
things ; for, as we shall presently say, these have yet other

10 effects according to the nature of the thing through the
apprehension of which Love, Hatred, and Sorrow, &c., are
awakened in the soul which contemplates the incorporeal
things.) So that, to return to our previous subject, if some
thing else should appear to the soul to be more glorious than
the body really is, it is certain that the body would then have
no power to produce such effects as it certainly does now.
Whence it follows,! not alone that the body is not the principal
cause of the passions, but also that even if there were in us
something else besides what we have just stated to be capable,

20 in our opinion, of producing the passions, such a thing, even
if there were such, could likewise affect the soul neither
more nor differently than the body does in fact now. For
it could never be anything else than such an object as would

tion, they tend to be] most disagreeable. And hence arises every
kind of feeling of which we become aware, and which, when it acts
on our body, as it often does, through material objects, we call
impulses ; for instance, a man who is sorrowing can be made to
laugh, or be made merry, by being tickled, or by drinking wine, &c.,
which [impulses] the soul becomes indeed aware of, but does not
30 produce. For, when it operates, the merriments are real and of
another kind ; because then it is no body that operates, but the
intelligent soul uses the body as a tool, and, consequently, as the
soul is more active in this case, so is the feeling more perfect.

t A continues thus : not that the body alone is the principal
cause of the passions . . . ; B : that the body alone is not the
principal cause of the passions . . .

ON OUR HAPPINESS 125

once for all be different from the soul, and would conse
quently show itself to be such and no other, as we have like
wise stated also of the body. So that we may, with truth,
conclude that Love, Hatred, Sorrow, and other passions are
produced in the soul in various forms according to the kind
of knowledge which, from time to time, it happens to have
of the thing ; and consequently, if once it can come to
know the most glorious of all, it should be impossible for
any of these passions to succeed in causing it the least
perturbation.

i CHAPTER XX

CONFIRMATION OF THE FOREGOING

Now, as regards what we have said in the preceding
chapter, the following difficulties might be raised by way of
objection. I

First, if motion is not the cause of the passions then why
is it possible, nevertheless, to banish sorrow by the aid of
certain II means, as is often done by means of wine ? To
this it serves [as an answer] that a distinction must be

10 made between the soul s awareness, when it first be
comes aware of the body, and the judgment which it
presently comes to form as to whether it is good or bad
for it.t

Now the soul, being such as just lit stated, has, as we
have already shown before, the power to move the [vital]
spirits whithersoever it pleases ; but this power may, never
theless, be taken away from it, as when, owing to other
causes [arising out] of the body generally, their form, con
stituted by certain proportions [of motion and rest], dis-

20 appears or is changed ; and when it becomes aware of this
[change] in it, there arises sorrow, which varies with the

I B inserts here a preliminary statement of the three objections
which follow, and then repeats them each in its place, as in the
text.

H A has geene [no] but this was crossed out by Monnikhoff and
replaced by eenige [some, or certain].

f That is, between understanding considered generally, and
understanding having special regard to the good or evil of the
thing.

3 o III A : nu mediate, possibly a slip for immediate, that is, " im
mediately [above]." B : nu onmiddelijk [immediately].

126

CONFIRMATION OF THE FOREGOING 127

change which the [vital] spirits undergo. This sorrow i
results from its love for, and union with, the body.t

That this is so may be easily deduced from the fact that
this sorrow can be alleviated in one of these two ways ;
either by restoring the [vital] spirits to their original form
that is by relieving him of the pain, or by being persuaded
by good reasons to make no ado about this body. The
first is temporary, and [the sorrow] is liable to return ; but
the second is eternal, permanent, and unchangeable.

The second objection may be this : as we see that the 10
soul, although it has nothing in common with the body,
can yet bring it about that the [vital] spirits, although they
were about to move in one direction, nevertheless move
now in the other direction, why should it not also be able
to effect that a body which is perfectly still and at rest
should begin to move itself ? ft likewise, why should it not
also be able to move in whatever direction it pleases all
other bodies which are already in motion ?

f Man s sorrow is caused by the thought that some evil is
befalling him, namely, through the loss of some good ; when such 20
a thought is entertained, the result is, that the [vital] spirits gather
about the heart, and, with the help of other parts, press it together
and enclose it, just the reverse of what happens in the case of joy.
Then the soul becomes aware of this pressure, and is pained. Now
what is it that medicines or wine effect ? This, namely, that by their
action they drive away the [vital] spirits from the heart, and make
room again, and when the soul becomes aware of this, it receives
new animation, which consists in this, that the thought of evil is
diverted by the change in the proportion of motion and rest, which
the wine has caused, and it turns to something else in which the 30
understanding finds more satisfaction. But this cannot be the
immediate effect of the wine on the soul, but only of the wine on
the [vital] spirits.

tf Now, there is no difficulty here as to how the one mode, which
is infinitely different from the other, yet acts on the other : for it is
a part of the whole, since the soul never existed without the body,

128 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

1 But if we recall what we have already said before con
cerning the thinking thing, it can remove this difficulty for
us quite easily. Namely, we then said that although Nature
has various attributes, it is, all the same, but one only
Being, of which all these attributes are predicated. Be
sides this we have also said that the thinking thing, too,
was but one only thing in Nature, and is expressed in
infinite Ideas, in accordance with the infinite things which
exist in Nature ; for if the body receives such a mode as,

J o nor the body without the soul.J We arrive at this [conclusion] as
follows :

i. There is a perfect being, page 4t 2. There cannot be two
substances, page . 3. No substance can have a beginning,
page . 4. Each is infinite in its kind, page . 5. There must
also be an attribute of thought, page . 6. There is no thing in
Nature, but there is an Idea of it in the thinking thing, resulting from
its essence and existence in conjunction, page . 7. Conse
quently, now : 8. Since their essence, without their existence, is
implied in the designations of things, therefore the Idea of the

20 essence cannot be regarded as something separate; this can only
be done when there is both existence and essence, because then there
is an object, which before was not. For example, when the whole
wall is white, there is no this or that in, &c. 9. Now, this Idea,
considered by itselt, and apart from all other Ideas, can be no more
than a mere Idea of such a thing, and it cannot be that it has an
Idea of such a thing ; [add] moreover, that such an Idea, thus
regarded, since it is only a part, can have no very clear and very
distinct conception of itselt and its object, but only the thinking
thing, which is the whole of Nature, can have this ; for, a part con-

30 sidered without its whole, cannot, &c. 10. Between the Idea and
the object there must necessarily be a union, because the one can
not exist without the other : for there is no thing whose Idea is not
in the thinking thing, and no Idea can exist unless the thing also
exists. Furthermore the object cannot change without the Idea

J B omits the rest of this note, but adds here the next note : * For ; * it
is clear . . .

JJ The number of the page (in notes 1-6) is not given in the MSS.
See Commentary.

CONFIRMATION OF THE FOREGOING 129

for example, the body of Peter, and again another such as i
is the body of Paul, the result of this is that there are in the
thinking thing two different Ideas : namely, one idea of the
body of Peter, which constitutes the Soul of Peter, and
another of [the body of] Paul, which constitutes the Soul
of Paul. Now the thinking thing can well move the body
of Peter by means of the Idea of the body of Peter, but
not by means of the Idea of the body of Paul ; so that the
soul of Paul can well move its own body, but by no means
that of another, such as that of Peter. f And for this reason I0

changing also, and vice versa, so that there is here no need for a
third thing that should bring about the union of soul and body. It
is to be remarked, however, that we are speaking here of such Ideas
which necessarily arise from the existence of the things together
with their essence in God ; but not of the Ideas which the things
now actually present to us, [or] produce in us. There is a great
difference between these : for the Ideas in God do not arise as they
do in us by way of one or more of the senses, which are therefore
almost always only imperfectly affected by them ; but from their
existence and their essence, just as they are. My idea, however, is 20
not yours, although one and the same thing produces them in us.

t It is clear that in man, because he had a beginning, there is to
be found no other attribute than such as existed in Nature already
before. And since he consists of such a body of which there must
necessarily be an Idea in the thinking thing, and the Idea must
necessarily be united with the body, therefore we assert without fear
that his Soul is nothing else than this Idea of his body in the think
ing thing. And as this body has a J motion and rest (which has its
proportion determined, and JJ is usually altered, through external 30
objects), and as no alteration can take place in the object without
occurring also immediately in the Idea, the result is that people feel
(idea reflexiva).Hl Now I say, as it has *a certain measure or*
proportion of motion and rest, because no process can take place in
the body without these two concurring.

B : has a certain measure of ...
I B omits these five words.
H B: that people have " reflexive " ideas.

130 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

j also it cannot move a stone which rests or lies still :
because the stone, again, makes another Idea in the
Soul. Hence also it is no less clear that it is impossible
that a stone, which is perfectly at rest and still, should be
made to move by any mode of thought, for the same
reasons as above.

The third objection may be this : We seem to be able to
see clearly that we can, nevertheless, produce a certain
stillness in the body. For, after we have kept moving our
[vital] spirits for a long time, we find that we are tired ;
which, assuredly, is nothing else than a certain stillness in
the [vital] spirits brought about by ourselves. We answer,
however, that it is quite true that the soul is a cause of this
stillness, but only indirectly ; for it puts a stop to the
movement not directly, but only through other bodies
which it has moved, and which must then necessarily have
lost as much as they had imparted to the [vital] spirits.!
It is therefore clear on all sides that in Nature there is
*only * one and the same kind of motion.

t B : The Answer is that, although it may be true that the
Soul is a cause of this rest, still it does not bring it about imme
diately, but only through other bodies, which necessarily impart to
the moving [vital] spirits just as much rest as they receive motion
from them.

CHAPTER XXI i

ON REASON

AT present we have to inquire why it happens that some
times, although we see that a certain thing is good or bad,
we nevertheless do not find in us the power either to do the
good or to abstain from the bad, and sometimes, however,
we do indeed [find this power in us]. This we can easily
understand if we consider the causes that we assigned to
opinions, which we stated to be the causes of all affects.
These, we then said, [arise] either from hearsay, or from 10
experience. And since all that we find in ourselves has
greater power over us than that which comes to us from
outside, it certainly follows that Reason can be the cause
of the extinction of opinions f which we have got from hear
say only (and this is so because reason has not *like these*

f It is all the same whether we use here the word opinion or
passion ; and so it is clear why we cannot conquer by means of
Reason those that have come to us through experience ; for these
are nothing else than an enjoyment of, or immediate union with,
something that we judge to be good, and Reason, though it teaches 20
us what is better, does not make us enjoy it. Now that which we
enjoy in us cannot be conquered by that which we do not enjoy,
and is outside us, as that is which Reason suggests. But if these
are to be overcome then there must be something that is more
powerful ; in this way there will be an enjoyment or immediate
union with something that is better known and enjoyed than this
first; and when this exists victory is always assured; or, indeed,
*this victory comes* also through tasting an evil which is recognised
to be greater than the good that was enjoyed, and upon which it
follows immediately. Still, experience teaches us that this evil does 30
not necessarily always follow thus, for, &c. See pages 78, 118.

132 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i come to us from outside), but by no means of those
which we have got from experience. For the power which
the thing itself gives us is always greater than that which
we obtain by way of consequence through a second thing ;
we noted this difference when speaking of reasoning and of
clear understanding, page 67, and we did so with the rule
of three as an illustration. For more power comes to us
from the understanding of proportion t itself, than from
the understanding of the rule of proportion. And it is for

10 this reason that we have said so often that one love may be
extinguished by another which is greater, because in saying
this we did not, by any means, intend to refer to desire
which *does not, like love, come from true knowledge, but*
comes from reasoning.

I A and B : the rule.

CHAPTER XXII
ON TRUE KNOWLEDGE, REGENERATION, &c.

SINCE, then, Reason has no power to lead us to the attain
ment of our well-being, it remains for us to inquire whether
we can attain it through the fourth, and last, kind of know
ledge. Now we have said that this kind of knowledge does
not result from something else, but from a direct revelation
of the object itself to the understanding. And if that
object is glorious and good, then the soul becomes
necessarily united with it, as we have also remarked with 10
reference to our body. Hence it follows incontrovertibly
that it is this knowledge which evokes love. So that when
we get to know God after this manner then (as he cannot
reveal himself, nor become known to us otherwise than as
the most glorious and best of all) we must necessarily
become united with him. And only in this * union,* as we
have already remarked, does our blessedness consist.

I do not say that we must know him just as he is, *or
adequately,* for it is sufficient for us to know him to some
extent, in order to be united with him. For even the 20
knowledge that we have of the body is not such that we
know it just as it is, or perfectly ; and yet, what a union !
what a love !

That this fourth [kind of] knowledge, which is the
knowledge of God, is not the consequence of something
else, but immediate, is evident from what we have proved
before, [namely,] that he is the cause of all knowledge that
is acquired through itself alone, and through no other
thing ; moreover, also from this, that we are so united with
him by nature that without him we can neither be, nor be 30

134 GOD ; MAN > AND HIS WELL-BEING

i known. And for this reason, since there is such a close
union between God and us, it is evident that we cannot
know him except directly.

We shall endeavour to explain, next, this union of ours
with him through nature and love.

We said before that in Nature there can be nothing of
which there should not be an Idea in the soul of that same
thing.f And according as the thing is either more or less
perfect, so also is the union and the influence of the Idea
10 with the thing, or with God himself, less or more perfect.
For as the whole of Nature is but one only substance, and
one whose essence is infinite, all things are united through
Nature, and they are united into one [being], namely, God.
And now, as the body is the very first thing of which our
soul becomes aware (because as already remarked, no thing
can exist in Nature, the Idea of which is not in the thinking
thing, this Idea being the soul of that thing) so that thing
must necessarily be the first cause of the Idea.tt

But, as this Idea can by no means find rest in the know-
20 ledge of the body without passing on to the knowledge of
that without which the body and Idea could neither be, nor
be understood, so (after knowing it first) it becomes united
with it immediately through love. This union is better
understood, and one may gather what it must be like, from
its action with the body, in which we see how through

f This also explains what we said in the first part, namely, that
the infinite understanding must exist in Nature from all eternity,
and why we called it the son of God. For, as God existed from
eternity, his Idea must also be in the thinking thing, that is, in him-
30 self *from eternity* , objective this Idea coincides with himself; see
page 57.

ft That is J our soul being an Idea of the body derives its first
being from the body, but JJ it is only a representation of the body,
both as a whole and in its parts, in the thinking thing.

J B inserts "in" after "is." }{ A: for; B: but.

TRUE KNOWLEDGE, REGENERATION, &c. 135

knowledge of, and feelings towards corporeal things, there i
arise in us all the effects which we are constantly becoming
aware of in the body, through the movements of the [vital]
spirits ; and therefore (if once our knowledge and love
come to embrace that without which we can neither be,
nor be understood, and which is in no way corporeal) how
incomparably greater and more glorious will and must be
the kind of effects resulting from this union ; for these
must necessarily be commensurate with the thing with
which it is united. And when we become aware of these 10
*excellent* effects, then we may say with truth, that we have
been born again. For our first birth took place when we
were united with the body, through which the activities and
movements of the [vital] spirits have arisen ; but this our
other or second birth will take place when we become
aware in us of entirely different effects of love, commensu
rate with the knowledge of this incorporeal object, and as
different from the first as the corporeal is different from
the incorporeal, spirit from flesh. And this may, therefore,
all the more justly and truly be called Regeneration, inas- 20
much as only from this love and union does Eternal and
unchangeable existence ensue, as we shall prove.

1 CHAPTER XXIII

ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL

IF only we consider attentively what the Soul is, and whence
its change and duration originate, then we shall easily see
whether it is mortal or immortal.

Now we have said that the Soul is an Idea which is in
the thinking thing, arising from the reality of a thing which
exists in Nature. Whence it follows that according to the
duration and change of the thing, so must also be the

10 duration and change of the Soul. We remarked, at the
same time, that the Soul can become united either with the
body of which it is the Idea, or with God, without whom it
can neither be, nor be known.

From this, then, it can easily be seen, (i) that, if it is
united with the body alone, and that body happens to
perish, then it must perish also ; for when it is deprived of
the body, which is the foundation of its love, it must perish
with it. But (2) if it becomes united with some other
thing which is and remains unchangeable, then, on the

20 contrary, it must also remain unchangeable *and lasting.*
For, in that case, through what shall it be possible for it
to perish ? J Not through itself ; for as little as it could
begin to exist through itself when it did not yet exist, so

I B concludes this chapter as follows : For that which alone is
the cause of the existence of a thing, must also, when it is about to
pass away, be the cause of its non-existence, simply because itself
is changing or passing away ; or that whereof it is the cause must
be able to annihilate itself; but as little as a thing can begin to
exist through itself when it does not yet exist, so little also can it
30 change or perish through itself, now that it does exist.

136

ON THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL 137

little also can it change or perish * through itself,* now that
it does exist.

Consequently, that thing which alone is the cause of its
existence, must also (when it is about to perish) be the
cause of its non-existence, because it happens to change
itself or to perish.

i CHAPTER XXIV

ON GOD S LOVE OF MAN

THUS far we have shown sufficiently, we think, what our
love of God is, also its consequences, namely, our eternal
duration. So we do not think it necessary here to say any
thing about other things, such as joy in God, peace of
mind, &c., as from what has been said it may easily be
seen what there is to or should be said about them.
Thus (as we have, so far, only considered our love of God)
10 it still remains to be seen whether there is also a divine
love of us, that is, whether God also loves mankind,
namely, when they love him. Now, in the first place, we
have said that to God no modes of thought can be ascribed
except those which are in his creatures; therefore, it cannot
be said that God loves mankind, much less [can it be
said] that he should love them because they love him, or
hate them because they hate him. For in that case we
should have to suppose that people do so of their own free
will, and that they do not depend on a first cause ; which
20 we have already before proved to be false. Besides, this
would necessarily involve nothing less than a great muta
bility on the part of God, who, though he neither loved nor
hated before, would now have to begin to love and to
hate, and would be * induced or * made to do so by some
thing supposed to be outside him ; but this is absurdity
itself.

Still, when we say that God does not love man, this
must not be taken to mean that he (so to say) leaves
man to pursue his course all alone, but only that be-
so cause man together with all that is, are in God in such

138

ON GOD S LOVE OF MAN 139

a way,:f and God consists of all these in such a way, therefore, i
properly speaking, there can be in him no love for something
else : since all form only one thing, which is God himself.

From this it follows also that God gives no laws to man
kind so as to reward them when they fulfil them *[and to
punish them when they transgress them,]* or, to state it
more clearly, that God s laws are not of such a nature that
they could be transgressed. For the regulations imposed
by God on Nature, according to which all things come into
existence and continue to exist, these, if we will call them 10
laws, are such that they can never be transgressed ; such,
for instance, is [the law] that the weakest must yield to the
strongest, It that no cause can produce more than it contains
in itself, and the like, which are of such a kind that they
never change, and never had a beginning, but all things are
subjected and subordinated to them. And, to say briefly
something about them : all laws that cannot be transgressed,
are divine laws ; the reason [is this], because whatsoever
happens, is not contrary to, but in accordance with, his own
decision. All laws that can be transgressed are human laws ; 20
the reason [is this], because all that people decide upon for
their own well-being does not necessarily, on that account,
tend also to the well-being of the whole of Nature, but may, on
the contrary, tend to the annihilation of many other things.

When the laws of Nature are stronger, the laws of men
are made null ; the divine laws are the final end for the
sake of which they exist, and not subordinate ; human
[laws] are not.Jtt Still, HII notwithstanding the fact that

t B continues as follows : that God thus consists of them only,
therefore, it must be so conceived that, properly speaking ... 30

tt B : the weaker must yield to the stronger.

ttt B : The Divine Laws are the final end for which they exist,
and are not subordinate : but not so the Human Laws \ for when
the Laws of Nature are stronger than these they are annihilated.

tttt A : For ; B : Still.

140 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i men make laws for their own well-being, and have no other
end in view except to promote their own well-being by
them, this end of theirs may yet (in so far as it is subordinate
to other ends which another has in view, who is above
them, and lets them act thus as parts of Nature) serve that
end [which] coincides with the eternal I laws established
by God from eternity, and so, together with all others, help
to accomplish everything. For example, although the
Bees, in all their work and the orderly discipline which they

10 maintain among themselves, have no other end in view than
to make certain provisions * for themselves * for the winter,
still, man who is above them, has an entirely different end
in view when he maintains and tends them, namely, to
obtain honey for himself. So also [is it with] man, in so
far as he is an individual thing and looks no further than
his finite character can reach ; but, in so far as he is also
a part and tool of the whole of Nature, this end of man
cannot be the final end of Nature, because she is infinite,
and must make use of him, together also with all other

20 things, as an instrument.

Thus far [we have been speaking] of the law imposed by
God ; it is now to be remarked also that man is aware of
two kinds of law even in himself ; tl I mean such a man
who uses his understanding aright, and attains to the know
ledge of God ; and these [two kinds of law] result from his
fellowship with God, and from his fellowship with the
modes of Nature. Of these the one is necessary, and the
other is not. For, as regards the law which results from
his fellowship with God, since he can never be otherwise

30 but must always necessarily be united with him, therefore

t B : beginningless.

^J B continues: i. In him who uses his understanding aright
and attains to the knowledge of God ; these result from his fellow
ship with God. 2. Those which result from his fellowship with the
modes of Nature.

ON GOD S LOVE OF MAN 141

he has, and always must have before his eyes the laws by i
which he must live for and with God. But as regards the
law which results from his fellowship with the modes, since
he can separate himself from men, this is not so necessary.

Now, since we posit such a fellowship between God and
men, it might justly be asked, how God can make himself
known to men, and whether this happens, or could have
happened, by means of spoken words, or directly *through
himself,* without using any other thing to do it with.

We answer,! not by means of words, in any case ; for 10
in that case man must have known the signification of the
words before they were spoken to him. For example, if
God had said to the Israelites, / am Jehovah your God, then
they would have had to know first, apart from these
words, that God existed, It before they could be assured
* thereby * that it was he * [who was speaking to
them].* For they already knew quite well then that the
voice, thunder and lightning were not God, although the
voice proclaimed that it was God. And the same that we
say here about words, we also mean to hold good of all 20
external signs.

We consider it, therefore, impossible that God should
make himself known to men by means of external
signs.ttt

And we consider it to be unnecessary that it should
happen through any other thing than the mere essence of

t B : To this we answer that such [a thing] can never happen
by means of words ; for, in that case, man would have had to know
the signification of the words before the outward communication
was made to him through them. When, for example, God said to 30
the Israelites, . . .

tt A : dat hy God was [that he was God] ; B : dat God was
[that God existed].

ttt B continues : this self-revelation must therefore take place
solely through the essence of God and the understanding of man ;
for ...

K

142 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i God and the understanding of man ; for, as the Under
standing is that in us which must know God, and as it stands
in such immediate union with him that it can neither be, nor
be understood without him, it is incontrovertibly evident
from this that no thing can ever come into such close touch
with the Understanding as God himself can. It is also impos
sible to get to know God through something else. i. Be
cause, in that case, such a thing would have to be better
known to us than God himself, which is in open conflict

10 with all that we have hitherto clearly shown, namely, that
God is a cause both of our knowledge and of all essence,
and that without him all individual things not only cannot
exist, but cannot even be understood. 2. Because we can
never attain to the knowledge of God through any other
thing, the nature of which is necessarily finite, even if it
were far better known to us ; for how is it possible that we
should infer an infinite and limitless thing from a * finite
and * limited thing ? For even if we did observe some
effects or work in Nature the cause of which was unknown

20 to us, still it would be impossible for us to conclude from
this that there must be in Nature an infinite and limitless
thing in order to produce this result. For how can we
know whether many causes have concurred in order to
produce this, or whether there was only one ? Who is to
tell us ?

We therefore conclude, finally, that, in order to make
himself known to men, God can and need use neither
words, nor miracles, nor any other created thing, but only
himself.

CHAPTER XXV 1

ON DEVILS

WE shall now briefly say something about devils, whether
they exist or do not exist, and it is this :

If the Devil is a thing that is once for all opposed to God,
and has absolutely nothing from God, then he is precisely iden
tical with Nothing, which we have already discussed before.

If, with some, we represent him as a thinking thing that
absolutely neither wills nor does any good, and so sets him
self, once for all, in opposition to God, then surely he is 10
very wretched, and, if prayers could help, then one ought
to pray for his conversion.

But let us just see whether such a wretched thing could
even exist for a single moment. And, if we do so, we shall
immediately find out that it cannot ; for whatever duration
a thing has results entirely from the perfection of the thing,
and the more essence and godliness things possess, the
more lasting are they : therefore, as the Devil has not the
least perfection in him, how should he then, I think to
myself, be able to exist ? Add to this, that the persistence 20
or duration of a mode of the thinking thing only results from
the union in which such a mode is, through love, joined to
God. As the precise opposite of this union is supposed in
the case of the Devils, they cannot possibly exist.!

As, however, there is no necessity whatever why we
should posit the existence of Devils, why then should they
be posited ? For we need not, like others, posit Devils in
order to find [in them] the cause of Hatred, Envy, Wrath,
and such-like passions, since we have found this sufficiently,
without such fictions. 30

t A : not exist.
M3

i CHAPTER XXVI

ON TRUE FREEDOM

BY the assertion of what precedes we not only wanted to
make known that there are no Devils, but also, indeed, that
the causes (or, to express it better, what we call Sins) which
hinder us in the attainment of our perfection are in our
selves. We have also shown already, in what precedes,
how and in what manner, through reason as also tt through
the fourth kind of knowledge, we must attain to our blessed-

10 ness, and how the passions * which are bad and should be
banished * must be done away with : not as is commonly
urged, namely, that these [passions] must first be subdued
before we can attain to the knowledge, and consequently to
the love, of God. That would be just like insisting that some
one who is ignorant must first forsake his ignorance before
he can attain to knowledge. ttt But [the truth is] this,
that only knowledge can cause the disappearance thereof
as is evident from all that we have said. Similarly, it may
also be clearly gathered from the above that without Virtue,

20 or (to express it better) without the guidance of the Under
standing, all tends to ruin, so that we can enjoy no rest,
and we live, as it were, outside our element. So that even
if from the power of knowledge and divine love there
accrued to the understanding not an eternal rest, such as
we have shown, but only a temporary one, it is our duty to

t B : of the preceding chapter.
JJ B omits these four words.

ttJ B continues thus : but just as knowledge alone can cause the
annihilation of this (as is evident from all that we have said) so it
30 may likewise be clearly gathered from the above . . .

144

ON TRUE FREEDOM 145

seek even this, since this also is such that if once we taste i
it we would exchange it for nothing else in the world.

This being so, we may, with reason, regard as a great
absurdity what many, who are otherwise esteemed as great
theologians, assert, namely, that if no eternal life resulted
from the love of God, then t they would seek what is best
for themselves : as though they could discover anything
better than God ! This is just as silly as if a fish (for
which, of course, it is impossible to live out of the water)
were to say : if no eternal life is to follow this life in the 10
water, then I will leave the water for the land ; It what else,
indeed, can they say to us who do not know God ?

Thus we see, therefore, that in order to arrive at the
truth of what we assert for sure concerning our happiness
and repose, we require no other principles except only this,
namely, to take to heart our own interest, which is very
natural in all things. ttt And since we find that, when we
pursue sensuousness, pleasures, and worldly things, we do
not find our happiness in them, but, on the contrary, our
ruin, we therefore choose the guidance of our understanding. 20
As, however, this can make no progress, unless it has first
attained to the knowledge and love of God, therefore it was
highly necessary to seek this (God) ; and as (after the fore
going reflections and considerations) we have discovered
that he is the best good of all that is good, we are compelled
to stop and to rest here. For we have seen that, outside
him, there is nothing that can give us any happiness. And
it is a true freedom to be, and to remain, bound with the
loving chains of his love.

Lastly, we see also that reasoning is not the principal 3
thing in us, but only like a staircase by which we can climb

B continues thus : people would seek and consider pleasures
of sense, merriment, and worldly enjoyments : as though . . .

It B continues: so it is also with the foregoing ; for, what else, . . .
B omits this sentence.

146 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i up to the desired place, or like a good genius which, with
out any falsity or deception, brings us tidings of the
highest good in order thereby to stimulate us to pursue it,
and to become united with it ; which union is our supreme
happiness and bliss.

So, to bring this work to a conclusion, it remains to

indicate briefly what human freedom is, and wherein it

consists. For this purpose I shall make use of these

following propositions, as things which are certain and

10 demonstrated.

i. The more essence a thing has, so much more has it
also of activity, and so much less of passivity. For it
is certain that what is active acts through what it has,
and that the thing which is passive is affected through what
it has not.

2. All passivity that passes from non-being to being, or
from being to non-being, must result from some external
agent, and not from an inner one : because no thing, con
sidered by itself, contains in itself the conditions that will

20 enable it to annihilate itself when it exists, or to create
itself when it does not exist.

3. Whatever is not produced by external causes can have
nothing in common with them, and can, consequently, be
neither changed nor transformed by them.

And from these last two [propositions] I infer the follow
ing fourth proposition :

4. The effect of an immanent or inner cause (which is all
one to me) cannot possibly pass away or change so long as
this cause of it remains. For such an effect, just as it

30 is not produced by external causes, so also it cannot be
changed [by them] ; following the third proposition. And
since no thing whatever can come to naught except through
external causes, it is not possible that this effect should be
liable to perish so long as its cause endures ; following the
second proposition.

ON TRUE FREEDOM 147

5. The freest cause of all, and that which is most appro- i
priate to God, is the immanent : for the effect of this cause
depends on it in such a way that it can neither be, nor be
understood without it, nor is it subjected to any other cause ;
it is, moreover, united with it in such a way that together
they form one whole.

Now let us just see what we must conclude from the
above propositions. In the first place, then,

1. Since the essence of God is infinite, therefore it has
an infinite activity, and an infinite negation of passivity, 10
following the first proposition ; and, in consequence of this,
the more that, through their greater essence, things are
united with God, so much the more also do they have of
activity, and the less of passivity : and so much the more
also *are they* free from change and corruption.

2. The true Understanding can never perish ; for in itself
it can have no cause to destroy itself, following the second
proposition. And as it did not emanate from external
causes, but from God, so it is not susceptible to any change
through them, following the third proposition. And since 20
God has produced it immediately and he is only t an inner
cause, it follows necessarily that it cannot perish so long

as this cause of it remains, following the fourth proposition.
Now this cause of it is eternal, therefore it is too.

3. All the effects of the *true* understanding, which are
united with it, are the most excellent, and must be valued
above all the others ; for as they are inner effects, they must
be the most excellent ; following the fifth proposition ; and,
besides this, they are also necessarily eternal, because their
cause is such. 30

4. All the effects which we produce outside ourselves are
the more perfect, the more they are capable of becoming
united with us, so as to constitute one and the same nature
with us ; for in this way they come nearest to inner

J A : is not only.

148 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i effects. For example, if I teach my neighbours to love
pleasure, glory, avarice, then whether I myself also love
these or do not love them, whatever the case may be, I
deserve to be punished, this is clear. Not so, however, when
the only end that I endeavour to attain is, to be able to taste
of union with God, and to bring forth true ideas, and to make
these things known also to my neighbours ; for we can all
participate equally in this happiness, as happens when it
creates in them J the same desire that I have, thus causing
10 their Jt will and mine to be one and the same, constituting
one and the same nature, agreeing always in all things.Jtt

From all that has been said it may now be very easily
conceived what is human freedom,! which I define to be
this : it is, namely, a firm reality which our understanding

t A: him. tt A: his.

HI Instead of the three preceding paragraphs, B has the
following :

2. As (according to Proposition II.) no thing can be a cause of
its own annihilation, nor, if it is not the effect of any external cause,

20 can it (according to Proposition III.) be changed by such, but
(according to Proposition IV.) the effect of an inner cause can
neither pass away, nor change so long as this cause thereof endures ;
it follows that the true understanding, since it is produced by no
external cause, but immediately by God, is, through this cause,
eternal and immutable, can neither perish nor change, but, with it,
necessarily remains eternal and lasting.

3. Since the inner effects of an immanent cause (according to
Proposition V.) are the most excellent of all, all the effects of the
true understanding which are united therewith, must also be valued

3 above all others, and [must] necessarily be eternal with their cause.
Whence it follows that

4. The more perfect the effects are which we produce outside us,
the more capable are they of becoming united with us so as to
constitute one and the same nature with us. It is thus when,

f The servitude of a thing consists in being subjected to
external causes, freedom, on the contrary, in not being subjected
to them, but freed from them.

ON TRUE FREEDOM 149

acquires through direct union with God, so that it can bring i
forth ideas in itself, and effects outside itself, in complete
harmony with its nature ; without, however, its effects being
subjected to any external causes, so as to be capable of
being changed or transformed by them. Thus it is, at
the same time, evident from what has been said, what
things there are that are in our power, and are not sub
jected to any external causes ; we have likewise also proved
here, and that in a different way from before, the eternal
and lasting duration of our understanding ; and, lastly, 10
which effects it is that we have to value above all others.

So,! to make an end of all this, it only remains for me
still to say to my friends to whom I write this :tt Be not
astonished at these novelties ; for it is very well known to
you that a thing does not therefore cease to be true because
it is not accepted by many. And also, as the character of
the age in which we live is not unknown to you, I would
beg of you most earnestly to be very careful about the com
munication of these things to others. I do not want to say
that you should absolutely keep them to yourselves, but only 20
that if ever you tU begin to communicate them to anybody,

through my union with God, I conceive true ideas, and make them
known to my neighbours, so that they may likewise participate with
me in this happiness, and so that there arises in them a desire like
mine, making their will one and the same with mine, so that we
thus constitute one and the same nature, agreeing in all things.

I In the margin of this paragraph A has the following note :
the author s entreaty to those for whom, at their request, he had
dictated this treatise, and therewith the conclusion of all.

It B continues : that they should not be astonished at the 30
novelties (which they might find here) ; since a thing does not
therefore cease to be true when it is not accepted by many.

ttt B continues : wish to communicate them to others, then
you shall have no other object in view except only the Happiness
of your neighbour ; being at the same time clearly assured that the
reward of your labour will not disappoint you therein.

150 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

1 then let no other aim prompt you except only the happiness
of your neighbour, being at the same time clearly assured
by him that the reward will not disappoint your labour.
Lastly, if, on reading this through, you should meet with
some difficulty about what I state as certain, I beseech you
that you should not therefore hasten at once to refute it,
before you have pondered it long enough and thoughtfully
enough, and if you do this I feel sure that you will attain to
the}: enjoyment of the fruits of this tree which you promise
10 yourselves.

J B concludes : desired END.

TEAOS
[THE END]

APPENDICES

[APPENDIX I] i

*ON GOD*

AXIOMS

1. Substance is, by its nature, prior to ail its modifications.

2. Things which are different are distinguished either
realiter or modaliter.

3. Things which are distinguished realiter either have
different attributes, such as Thought and Extension, or are
referred to different attributes, as in the case of Under
standing and Motion ; one of which belongs to Thought, 10
and the other to Extension.

4. Things which have different attributes, as also the
things which belong to different attributes, do not have
anything the one of the other.

5. That which has not in itself something of another thing,
can also not be a cause of the existence of such another thing.

6. It is impossible that that which is a cause of itself
should have limited itself.

7. That by which the things are sustained is by its nature
prior to t such things. 20

PROPOSITION I

To no substance that exists can one and the same attri
bute be ascribed that is ascribed to another substance ; or
(which is the same) in Nature there cannot be two sub
stances, unless they are distinguished realiter.tl

I A : the first (prior) in ; B : prior to.

Jt B : ... in Nature there cannot be posited two substances
of one and the same nature.

153

154 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

1 PROOF

If there are two substances, then they are distinct ; and
consequently (Axiom 2) they are distinguished either
realiter or modaliter ; not modaliter, for in that case the
modes would by their nature be prior to the substance,
which is contrary to the first axiom ; therefore, realiter ; and
consequently, what is predicated of the one cannot be
predicated of the other, which is what we intended to
prove.

10 PROPOSITION II

One substance cannot be the cause of the existence of
another substance.

PROOF

Such a cause ;annot contain in itself anything of such
an effect (Prop, i) ; because the difference between them is
real, and therefore it cannot (Axiom 5) produce it.JJ

PROPOSITION III

Every attribute or substance ttt is by nature infinite, and
supremely perfect in its kind.

20 PROOF

No substance is produced by another (Prop. 2) and conse
quently, if it exists, it is either an attribute of God, or it has
been its own cause outside God. If the first, then it is
necessarily infinite, and supremely perfect in its kind, such

t A gives the references to Axioms and Propositions in the
margin ; B, in the text.

JJ A adds : (existence) ; B : . . . and therefore the one cannot
produce the other.

HI A : all attributes or substance ; B : all substance or its attri-
3 o butes.

APPENDIX I 155

as are all other attributes of God. If the second, then it is
also necessarily such because (Axiom 6) it could not have
limited itself.

PROPOSITION IV

To such an extent does existence pertain by nature to
the essence of every substance,! that it is impossible to
posit in an infinite understanding the Idea of the essence of
a substance that does not exist in Nature.

PROOF

The true essence of an object Jt is something which is 10
realiter different from the Idea of the same object ; and this
something exists (Axiom 3) either realiter, or is contained in
some other thing which exists realiter ; from which other
thing this essence cannot be distinguished realiter, but
only modaliter ; such are all the essences of the things ttt
which we see, which before they yet existed were already
contained in extension, motion, and rest, and when they do
exist are not distinguished from extension realiter } but only
modaliter. Moreover, it would involve self-contradiction to
suppose that the essence of a substance tttt is contained thus 20
in some other thing ; because in that case it could not be
distinguished from this realiter, contrary to the first proposi
tion ; also, it could in that case be produced by the subject
which contains it, contrary to the second proposition ; and
lastly, it could not by its nature be infinite and supremely
perfect in its kind, contrary to the third proposition.

t A : to every essence of substance ; B : to the essence of a
substance.

t J B : . . . of the object of an idea.

B : essences or things. 30

A: that an essence of the substance; B: that an essence
of substance.

156 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

Therefore, as its essence is not contained in any other
thing, it must be a thing that exists through itself.

COROLLARY

Nature is known through itself, and not through any
other thing. It consists of infinite attributes every one of
them infinite and perfect in its kind ; to its essence pertains
existence, so that outside it there is no other essence or
existence, and it thus coincides exactly with the essence of
God who alone is glorious and blessed.

[APPENDIX II]
* ON THE HUMAN SOUL *

As man is a created finite thing, &c., it necessarily follows
that what he has of Thought, and what we call the Soul, is
a mode of the attribute which we call Thought, and that
nothing else except this mode belongs to his essence : so
much so that when this mode comes to naught, the soul
perishes also, although the above attribute remains un
changed. Similarly as regards Jt what he has of Extension ;
what we call Body is nothing else than a mode of the other 10
attribute which we call Extension ; when this is destroyed,
the human body also ceases to be, although the attribute
Extension remains unchanged.

Now in order to understand what this mode is, which we
call Soul, and how it derives its origin from the body, and
also how its change (only) depends on the body (which to me
constitutes the union of soul and body), it must be observed :

I. That the most immediate mode of the attribute which
we call thought contains objective the formal essence of all
things ; so much so, that if one could posit a real thing 20
whose essence was not objective in the above-named attri
bute, then this would not be infinite, nor supremely perfect
in its kind ; contrary to what has already been proved in
the third proposition. And since, as a matter of fact, Nature
or God is one being of which infinite attributes are predi
cated, and which contains in itself all the essences of created
things, it necessarily follows that of all this there is produced

J A : an attribute : B : a mode.

tl B omits " as regards," and inserts " and " after " Extension."

157 L

158 GOD ; MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

in Thought an infinite Idea, t which comprehends objective
the whole of Nature just as it is realiter.

2. It is to be observed that all the remaining modes, such
as Love, Desire, Joy, *&c.,* derive their origin from this
first immediate mode ; and that, too, in such wise, that if it
did not precede, then there could be no love, desire, * nor
joy,* &c. Whence it clearly follows that the natural love
which prompts everything to preserve its body (I mean the
mode) It cannot have any other origin than in the Idea

10 or the " objective " essence of such body which is in the
thinking attribute. Further, since for the real existence of
an Idea (or " objective " essence) no other thing is required
than the thinking attribute and the object (or " formal"
essence), it is certain, as we have said, that the Idea, or the
"objective" essence, is the most immediate t mode of the
* thinking * attribute. And, consequently, there can be in
the thinking attribute no other mode, that should belong to
the essence of the soul of every ttt thing, except only the
Idea, which must be in the thinking attribute when its

20 object exists : for such an idea brings with it the remaining
modes of Love, Desire, * joy,* &c. Now as the Idea comes
from the existence of the object, therefore according as the
object changes or perishes, so its Idea must change or
perish, and such being the case, it is that which is united
with the object. tttt

t I call that mode the most immediate mode, which, in order to
exist, requires no other mode in the same attribute.

J A : it necessarily follows that of all that which is produced in
Thought there is an infinite Idea . . . ; B : . . . that there is
30 produced in thought an infinite idea thereof . . .

It B omits the words in brackets.

til A : gelijken [like] ; B : iegelijk n [every].

Hit B : . . . so this idea of it must change or perish in the same
degree or measure of change or annihilation, because it is thus-
united with the object.

APPENDIX II 159

Lastly, if we should want to proceed and ascribe to the i
essence of the soul that through which it can be real, we shall
be able to find nothing else than the attribute [Thought] and
the object of which we have just been speaking ; and neither
of these can belong to the essence of the Soul, as the object
has nothing of Thought, and is realiter different from the
Soul. ! And with regard to the attribute, we have also
proved already that it cannot pertain to the above-mentioned
essence, as appears even more clearly from what we said
subsequently; II for the attribute as attribute IK is not 10
united with the object, since it neither changes nor perishes,
although the object changes or perishes.

Therefore the essence of the soul consists in this alone,
namely, in the existence of an Idea or " objective " essence
in the thinking attribute, arising from the essence of an
object which in fact exists in Nature. I say, of an object
which in fact exists, 6-c., without more particulars, so as to
include under this not only the modes of extension, but also
the modes of all the infinite attributes, which have also
each its soul, just as in the case of extension. And in order 20
that this definition may be somewhat more fully understood,
it should be borne in mind what I have already said when
speaking about the attributes, which, I said, are not different
as regards their existence,tltt for they are themselves the
" subjects " of their essences ; also that the essence of every
one of the modes is contained in the above-named attributes,
* and, lastly, that all the attributes are attributes * of One
infinite Being. Wherefore also, in the ninth chapter of the
First Part, I called this Idea a creation created immediately by
God ; since it contains objective the " formal " essence of all 30

! B : as the object of Thought has nothing thereof, but is
realiter different from it.

!! B : as will be seen trom what we shall say later.

!!! B omits "as attribute."

!!!! B omits the nine words that follow.

160 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

1 things, I without omission or addition. And this is neces
sarily but one, considering that all the essences of the
attributes, and the essences of the modes comprehended
in these attributes, are the essence of one only infinite
being, II But it has still to be remarked that these modes,
now under consideration, [even when] none of them exists,
are nevertheless equally comprehended in their attributes ;
and as there is no inequality whatever in the attributes, nor
yet in the essences of the modes, there can be no particu-

10 larity in the idea when there is none in Nature. But as
soon as ever some of these modes take on their particular
existence, and thereby become in some way different
from their attributes (because then their particular
existence, which they have in the attribute, is the "sub
ject" of their essence), then there shows itself a particu
larity in the essences of the modes, and consequently in
the " objective " essences of these which are necessarily
comprehended in the Idea, HI And this is the reason why
we said, in the definition, that the Idea llll arises from

20 an object, Hill which really exists in Nature. And with this
we think we have sufficiently explained what kind of a
thing the soul is in general, understanding by this expres
sion not only the Ideas which arise from *the existence
of* corporeal modes, but also those which arise from the
existence of every mode of the remaining attributes.

I B : . . . I called the thinking attribute, or the understand
ing in the thinking thing, a son, product, or creation created
immediately by God, since it contains the " objective " essence of
all things . . .

30 H B omits this sentence, and continues : For it has to be
remarked . . .

HI B : in the Thinking Attribute.

Hll B : the soul, the idea, or objective essence in the thinking
attribute (which is all one to me) arises . . .

lllll B : from the essence of an object . . .

APPENDIX II 161

But, since we have no such knowledge of the remaining i
attributes as we have of extension, let us just see whether,
having regard to the modes of extension, we can discover a
more special definition, and one that shall be more appro
priate to express the essence of our souls, for this is the
real task before us. Now we shall presuppose here, as
something already demonstrated, that extension contains no
other modes than motion and rest, and that every particular
material thing is nothing else than a certain proportion of
motion and rest, so much so indeed that, even if extension 10
contained nothing else except motion only or rest only, then
no particular thing could be shown or exist in the whole of
extension; the human body, therefore, is nothing else than
a certain proportion of motion and rest. Now the " ob
jective essence " of this actual ratio * of motion and rest *
which is in the thinking attribute, this (we say) is the soul
of the body ; so that whenever one of these two modes
changes into more or less (motion or rest) I the Idea
* or the soul * also changes accordingly. For example, when
the [amount of] rest happens to increase, while the [quantity 20
of] motion is diminished, then there is produced thereby
that pain or sorrow which we call cold; but if, on the
contrary, this [increase] takes place in the [amount of]
motion, then there is produced thereby that pain which we
call heat. It And so when it happens that the degrees of
motion and rest are not equal in all the parts of our body,
but that some have more motion and rest than others, there

I B : whenever one 01 these two modes, be it motion or rest,
changes into more or less . . .

II B continues as follows : But if the proportion of motion and 30
rest is not the same in all the parts of our body, but some of them
are provided with more motion or rest than the others, there arises
thence a difference of feeling : such as we experience when we are
struck with a cane in the eyes or on the hands. Moreover, when
the external causes happen to be different, and have not all the

162 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

i arises therefrom a t difference of feeling (and thence arises
the different kind of pain which we feel when we are struck
in the eyes or on the hands with a cane), It And when it
happens that the external causes, which bring about these
changes, are different from one another, and have not all
the same effect, then there results from this a difference of
feeling in one and the same part (and from this results the
difference of feeling according as one and the same hand is
struck with a piece of wood or of iron), tt And, again,

10 if the change which occurs in a part restores it to its first
proportion *of motion and rest,* there arises from this that
joy which we call repose, pleasurable activity, and cheerful
ness. Lastly, now that we have explained what feeling is,
we can easily see how this gives rise to an Idea reflexiva, or
the knowledge of oneself, Experience and Reasoning. And
from all this (as also because our soul is united with God,
and is a part of the infinite Idea, arising immediately from
God) there can also be clearly seen the origin of clear
knowledge, and the immortality of the soul. But, for the

20 present, what we have said must be enough.

same effect, there results therefrom a difference ot feeling in one
and the same part : such as \ve experience when the same hand is
struck with a piece of wood or of iron. But when the change which
occurs in some part restores it to its previous proportion of motion
and rest, there arises . . .

I A : the.

It A gives the words in brackets immediately after "happens.

COMMENTARY

Several of the conceptions which are either tacitly taken
up or expressly defined by Spinoza are no longer familiar
to us, and have to be learned like the vocabulary of a
foreign tongue ; with the additional disadvantage that
our common English supplies no corresponding terms,
the very moulds having been broken and cast away in
which the thoughts were shaped." MARTI NEAU.

COMMENTARY

[The numbers in large type refer to the pages of the translation
those in smaller type to the lines. ]

TITLE-PAGES, ETC.

4. THE Preface on the title-page of A must have been written
by an ardent follower of Spinoza, not by Spinoza himself.
Hence Monnikhoff felt justified in substituting a new title-
page (6), not offensive to the theologians. The engraved
Portrait in A (which is reproduced here) is the same as that
found in some copies of the Opera Posthuma, and was prob
ably inserted in A by Monnikhoff, who also wrote the verses
facing it. It is uncertain whether the portrait was engraved
during the life-time of Spinoza. According to Rieuwertsz,
as reported by Dr. Hallmann in 1704 (see Introduction,
p. civ.), it was engraved some three or four years after the
death of Spinoza, probably from the Wolfenbiittel portrait
(see p. xcvii.).

The verses facing the portrait have been rendered by Dr.
Willis as follows :

" Here Art presents us with Spinoza s lace,
Wherein deep lines of sober thought we trace
Yet is the mental likeness better shown
To those who read and make his works their own."

FIRST PART

The First Part is devoted to the consideration of God,
His existence, attributes, &c. The same ground was sub-

165

1 66 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

sequently covered in the First Part of the Ethics (De Deo).
This and other resemblances to the Ethics naturally sug
gested that the Short Treatise was an early draft of the
Ethics. Monnikhoff actually put Ethica on the title-page of
B, and the Short Treatise is sometimes referred to as the
" small Ethics."

CHAPTER I

15. The opening is remarkably abrupt. The expression
"as regards the first" suggests a preceding enumeration
of topics about to be discussed, but no such enumeration
is given, unless it be on the title-page of the Treatise,
namely, God, Man, &c. Monnikhoff tried to avoid this
crudity by substituting "this" for "the first." But the
abruptness remains, and is the more striking because so
many of the other chapters begin with an enumeration of
the topics to be discussed. Freudenthal has suggested that
the original opening may have been as follows : " Man has
an idea of God as a Being consisting of infinite attributes,
each of which is infinitely perfect in its kind. First, we
will show that such a Being exists, and then we shall give
our views as to what He is. As regards the first . . ."
This conjecture is based partly on the second sentence in
chapter ii., which seems to have been misplaced.

It is noteworthy that Spinoza begins with proofs that
God is, and only then proceeds to determine what He is.
The reason may have been this. He was teaching people
who were already fairly familiar with the fundamentals of
the Cartesian philosophy. He therefore commenced with
the Cartesian proofs of God s existence, and gradually led
up to his own comparatively strange conception of God.
This kind of pedagogic method is not uncommon in the
history of philosophy. Kant, e.g., started from the then
current psychology and gradually led up to very different,
almost startling results.

COMMENTARY 167

The proofs themselves are mainly (though not altogether)
Cartesian. (See Meditations, III. and V., and the Appendix
in the translation of Descartes Method, &c., by John
Veitch). Unlike Descartes, however, Spinoza attaches the
greatest weight to the a priori arguments.

15, 5. A priori. An argument is said to be a priori when
it proceeds from the character of a thing to its implications,
from conditions to consequences, or from causes to effects.
It is said to be a posteriori when it proceeds from conse
quences to conditions, or from effects to causes. These
terms also have other meanings, but not in Spinoza.

15, 6ff. The underlying thought is expressed in Spinoza s
Principia Philosophic? Cartesiancz, I. Def. ix. " When we
say that something is contained in the nature or concept of
a certain thing, that is the same as saying that it is true of
that thing, or that it can be truly affirmed of that thing."

15, 7. The word "nature" here means "character" or
" essence." More commonly it means the material world,
or (in Spinoza and Bruno, e.g.) even the entire universe.
Note t was intended to guard against this ambiguity.

15, 13. "Essence" is one of the most difficult terms in
Spinoza s vocabulary. In the Cogitata Metaphysica it is
said to be " nothing else than that mode by which
created objects are comprehended in the attributes of God."
Briefly, the essence of a thing is its share of, or participation
in, ultimate reality. In the case of God, essence and exist
ence coincide. In the case of other things their existence
as relatively independent entities is distinct from their
essence.

" Eternity," in its stricter sense, does not mean " incessant
duration in time," but reality independently of time or
beyond it.

15, 1 6. "The existence of God is essence." Compare
Maimonides Guide of the Perplexed, I. Ivii. " It is known
that existence is an accident [ = quality] appertaining to all

168 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

things, and therefore an element superadded to their essence.
This must evidently be the case as regards everything the
existence of which is due to some cause ; its existence is
an element superadded to its essence. But as regards a
being whose existence is not due to any cause God
alone is that being, for His existence, as we have said, is
absolute existence and essence are perfectly identical.
He is not a substance to which existence is joined as an
accident, as an additional element. His existence is always
absolute, and has never been a new element or an accident
in Him" (Friedlander s translation, 2nd ed., p. 80).

15, 21 /. Such merely verbal alternations show that the
Treatise was never properly edited. Cf. 25, 31.

The illustration is the same as in Descartes fifth Medita
tion.

16, 2. The reference-mark t is apparently misplaced,
because the note referred to really follows up the preceding
a priori arguments, and therefore belongs to 15, 17.

16, 3. Fonnaliter = actually or objectively (in the modern
sense). The identification of fonnalis and actualis in
medieval philosophy was due to the influence of Aristo-
telianism. According to Aristotle, individual things are
compounds of Matter and Form, and Form is the more
important of the two. Matter is the as yet imperfect or the
merely potential, which requires Form to make it actual.
Hence during the supremacy of Aristotelian philosophy in
the Middle Ages, Matter was identified with Potentiality,
and Form with Actuality, so that j or malls = actualis.

16, 9. " Objective " = in thought, or subjectively (in the
modern sense). The present use of the terms "subjective"
and " objective" is the reverse of former usage. By
" subject" (subjectum = VTTOKZIJULWOV) used to be meant the
substrate or concrete reality supporting or " underlying "
its properties, and hence also the subject of predication,
because in predication these properties or qualities are

COMMENTARY 169

generally predicated of their " subject." (For an illustra
tion of the older use of the term "subject," see, e.g., 18,
23). By " object" (objectum = OLVTIKSIIULWOV), on the other
hand, was meant something which consisted in " lying
opposite" or before the mind (quatenus objicitur intellcctui) ,
so that "objective " referred only to the sphere of thought.
This usage is already met with in the writings of Duns
Scotus (died 1308), and continued, with some modifications,
right into the eighteenth century Berkeley, e.g., still used
" real " as an antithesis to " objective." The noun " object "
(objectum) acquired its present meaning long before the
adjective did. Already Descartes used to term " objects " for
" things" (" in objectis, hoc est in rebus." Principia Phil.).
The transition to the present meaning of " subjective " was
probably brought about by the<application of the term subjec-
tum to the soul as distinguished from (or as the bearer of)
its " objective " ideas. (Leibniz, e.g., used the expression :
" subjectwm ou Tame meme.") Hence subjective" came to
indicate whatever had reference to the soul.

16, 29 ff. The text is obscure and most probably corrupt.
" Want de Idea en bestaat niet materialiter van de eigen-
schap die tot dit \veezen behoort, alzo dat net geen t welk
bevestigt wordt, en is noch van de zaak noch van dat
geen t welk van de zaak bevestigt word ; . . ." Sigwart
translates as though " van de eigenschap " followed imme
diately after "Idea" " the Idea of the attribute which
belongs to this being does not exist materialiter. . . ."
Freudenthal has suggested the insertion of "van de Idea"
between " het geen t welk" and "bevestigt" "so that
that which is affirmed [of the Idea] is . . ." But the note
remains obscure. Perhaps the meaning intended was this.
The ontological argument maintains that the essence of
God involves His existence, or (expressed more generally)
that the essential attributes of a certain Ideatum [=the
object represented by an idea] imply the presence of yet

170 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

another attribute (existence, in this case). The objection to
this is that the implied additional attribute may be true of
the Idea, but not of the Idcatum. And this is met by the
argument that the new attribute is inferred from the
other (essential) attributes, and if it is to be predicated at
all can only be predicated of that which has those other
(essential) attributes. Now the Idea is not actually com
posed (materialiter) of those attributes or qualities ; these
really pertain to the Idcatum. If, therefore, the new attribute
(existence) follows at all from the others it must be pre
dicated of the Ideatum, not of the Idea, which is materialiter
so unlike the Ideatum that the same attributes cannot be
affirmed of both. This argument does not prove the
accuracy of the ontological proof ; but it seems to have
been directed only against the half-hearted acceptance of it
as valid in so far as the Idea of God was concerned.

17, 33 /. In opposition to Descartes, Spinoza maintains
that man could not of himself produce any idea whatever.
The elementary constituent ideas even of fictions must have
been called forth in man by external causes. Descartes only
insisted that man could not produce the idea of God ;
Spinoza extends the denial to all ideas. Compare 16, 18 ff.

18,5. Essentia objcctiva or "objective" essence = the
essence of a thing as represented in thought. The corre
spondence between an idea and its ideatum, or object, is
described in the language of scholastic philosophy as a kind
of two-fold existence of the "essence" of that object. The
essence exists formalitcr (actually) in the individual concrete
thing; it exists objective, or has "objective" essence, in
thought (as an idea).

18, 8. Formaliter cminenter. This scholastic antithesis
has reference to the relation of a cause to its effect. If the
cause contained more reality or greater perfection than its
effect, then it was said to be an eminent cause, or to pro
duce its effect eminenter or modo erninentiori. In this way,

COMMENTARY 171

e.g., God (according to Descartes) is the eminent" cause
of the human mind. But if, on the other hand, the cause
contained only as much (it cannot, of course, contain less)
perfection as its cause, it was said to have produced it
formaliter or secundum eandern for mam. Thus, e.g., the
pressure of a foot was said to cause a footprint formaliter.
This use of formaliter is different from that explained in the
preceding note.

The words "though not eminentcr . . . outside him"
seem to be both irrelevant and inaccurate. Possibly they
are only a reader s comment. It is not clear why God s
supreme excellence should prevent His being the eminent
cause of our idea of Him. The opposite view would seem
more reasonable. Probably it is implied that the idea of
God contains as much perfection objective as God has
formaliter; its cause, therefore, can only be formal, not
eminent, because nothing (not even God Himself) is more
perfect formaliter than it (the idea of God) is objective.

18, 13. Pegasus, for instance. Cf. Descartes, Med. V.

18, 23. Subjectum see note to 16, 9.

19, 3. Attributes. The expression is here used in its more
usual meaning, not in the stricter sense in which it is
generally employed in Spinoza s writings. Hence note f.
In the stricter sense of the term "attribute" only two
attributes of God or Nature are known to us, namely,
Extension and Thought. Each of these is a summum genus,
and is not derived from anything else. " Properties "
(propria or proprietaries) are derivative, they follow from the
attributes. The " attributes " referred to in the text are, as
note t explains, only " properties," because they are not
summa genera, they are not " substantial " or self-dependent,
but imply the "attributes" which constitute "substance"
or the self-dependent reality (God or Nature).

20, 15. Causa sui = the self-existent. The expression is
awkward and misleading. Spinoza did not invent it ; it was

172 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

part of the philosophical vocabulary of his time, and had
been in use for many centuries before that. It was probably
suggested originally by the Platonic expression iavTo KIVOVV.
Strictly speaking, that which is causa sui, or "its own
cause," really has no cause at all. Spinoza himself has
pointed out the absurd implication of the phrase causa sui.
It seems to imply that something which did not exist could
yet operate in such a way as to bring itself into existence
(see 114, 6 ff., and 146, 18 ff.).

20, 17. Thomas Aquinas (? 1225-1274), called Doctor
angelicus, brought about the most intimate fusion between
Aristotelianism and Catholicism. His favourite argument for
the existence of God was the Aristotelian a posteriori argu
ment that the existence of Motion implied the existence of
an original unmoved Mover. The passage referred to is
probably Summa Theologize, I. ii. 2.

20, 24 ff. The rest of this note seems to be quite irrelevant
here. A gives it in its proper context, 22, 12 ff.

CHAPTER II

21, 4 ff. This chapter begins immediately with a definition
of God, but without any indication as to the way in which
the definition has been arrived at. Note f, however, makes
it clear that Spinoza really started with the traditional con
ception of God as Ens perfectissimum, or " the most perfect
Being " (see lines 18 /.), and developed his conception from it.

It is noteworthy that the definition of God given here does
not describe Him as " Substance," as does the later defini
tion in the Ethics. Here the definition of God is followed
up by an independent treatment of the notion " Substance "
(lines 9ff.), and it is then made apparent that the two notions
" God " and " Substance " converge.

21, 9. Spinoza begins his account of " substance ;; with
out defining what he means by that term. He evidently

COMMENTARY

starts from the Cartesian doctrine of two ultimate kinds
of substances, namely, Extension and Thought, and then
suddenly shows that there can only be one Substance. To
begin with he tacitly assumes the possibility of the existence
of a multiplicity of substances all grounded in the perfection
of God. When he has shown that there is only one
Substance he identifies it with God by identifying both with
Nature. Descartes had defined " substance " as " a thing
which exists in such a way as to stand in need of nothing
beyond itself in order to its existence." " In truth " (he
added) " there can be conceived but one Substance which is
absolutely independent, and that is God." He applied,
however, the term " substance " (or " created substance ")
to minds and bodies, because, except God, nothing else is
required for their existence ; and, pointing out that Thought
and Extension were the " principal attributes " constituting
the essence of minds and bodies respectively, he spoke of
Extension and Thought as the ultimate and distinct kinds
of substances. These substances acquired such a measure
of independence that it was beyond Descartes to reunite
them again, except in an external kind of way.

Spinoza approached the subject with the conviction that
Nature was One and perfect, in the fullest sense of these
expressions. He consequently took "Substance" quite
seriously. The only really independent or self-dependent
being was the complete system of Reality, or Nature. Hence,
beginning with a somewhat looser (Cartesian) conception
of " Substance," he gradually led up to the conclusion that
there was only one substance, of which all other so-called
substances were either attributes or modifications.

21, 21 ff. Note ft presents in a different form the argu
ment of the text as far as 25, 13.

23, 23 ff. This distinction between "creating " and "gene
rating " occurs also in the Cogitata Metaphysica, II. x., where,
however, he seems to vindicate the possibility of creation,

M

174 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

only confining it to substances (in the Cartesian sense) or
attributes. " A created object " (he says there) " is one which
presupposes for its existence nothing except God." Modes
and accidents presuppose also the attributes or substances
Extension and Thought. They are consequently not
"created," but "generated." Only that has been created
" whose essence is clearly conceived even without existence,
and is conceived, moreover, per se " Extension is given as
an instance. As soon as Spinoza identified Extension,
Thought, and all other (unknown) attributes with God,
there was no room for this notion of " creation," except,
perhaps, in that inane sense in which it is still implied in the
expression causa sui. Hence the denial of " creation " in
the present treatise. And the " essences " of things, though
described in the Cogitata Metaphysica as having been
" created," must here be regarded simply as eternal. Traces
of the earlier belief in "creation " are, however, still observ
able in the Treatise, pp. 24, 57.

24, 24^. Cf. Maimonides Guide (II. xx. p. 190): "The
series of causes ends with the First Cause, from which
everything derives its existence, since it is impossible that
the series should continue in infinitum." Here, then,
Spinoza agrees with Maimonides, and with the Aristotelians
generally, that the causal series cannot continue in infinitum.
But his views changed subsequently, and in his i2th Letter
we find Spinoza praising Rabbi Hasdai Crescas for furnish
ing an argument for the existence of God, independently
of the supposed impossibility of such an infinite causal
regression.

24, 30. " This only substance." Spinoza does not say
what substance he means, but he evidently identifies it with
God.

24, 31. "Substance or attribute." The expression is note
worthy. When writing the Short Treatise Spinoza was still
very much under the influence of Cartesian nomenclature.

COMMENTARY 175

He was still inclined to speak of Extension and Thought
as substances. It seemed to him a matter of indifference
whether these were described as "substances " or as " attri
butes" ; he used either term, and sometimes both in con
junction, as here (see, e.g., 28, 13 ; 29, 5 ; 34, 2 ff. ; 154, 18).
At this stage, in fact, he defined " attribute " in the same
terms as he subsequently denned "substance." In his 2nd
Letter (1661) he denned " attribute " as " whatever is con
ceived through itself and in itself, so that the conception there
of does not involve the conception of anything else." He
illustrated his meaning by comparing Extension with motion.
Extension can be conceived through itself and in itself, and
is therefore an attribute ; motion, on the other hand, cannot
be conceived without Extension ; it is therefore not an
attribute, but only a mode (or modification) of an attribute
(Extension). In his Qth Letter (1663) Spinoza defined
"substance" in the same terms as the preceding definition
of "attribute," and explicitly identified the two. " By sub
stance I mean that which exists in itself, and is conceived
through itself ; that is, the conception whereof does not
involve the conception of anything else. I mean the same
by attribute, except that it is called attribute with respect to
the intellect which ascribes a certain character to sub
stance." This, Spinoza added, will explain what he meant
by using the expression, " substance or attribute." Briefly,
"substance" simply consists of its "attributes," but of all
of them ; while each "attribute" is only one (ultimate and
real) aspect or feature of "substance." The totality of
attributes is therefore identical with substance, and Spinoza
accordingly felt at liberty to speak sometimes as though he
ignored the difference between " substance " and " attri
bute." This, however, occasioned some difficulty among
his disciples and friends. He therefore eventually adopted
the stricter distinction found in the Ethics. But even the
Ethics still retains traces of the earlier and laxer usage ; in

176 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

Ethics, I. xv. Schol., he speaks of " extended substance" as
" one of the infinite attributes of God."

25, 2 /. What Spinoza meant by the argument " from the
simplicity of God s will " may be explained by the following
passage in Maimonides Guide of the Perplexed (II. xiv.) :
" An agent is active at one time and inactive at another,
according as the circumstances are favourable or unfavour
able. . . . As, however, God is not subject to accidents
which could bring about a change in His will, and is not
affected by obstacles and hindrances that might appear or
disappear, it is impossible, they [i.e., those who maintain
the eternity of the world] argue, to imagine that God is
active at one time and inactive at another. He is, on the
contrary, always active in the same manner as He is always
in actual existence" (p. 175).

25, 7/. This is a difficult sentence. " En dat meer is, zo
doende zouden er oneyndelijke zelfstandigheeden meer niet
zijn als er zijn, het welke ongerijmt is." Quite literally it
means, u . . . there would be no more infinite substances
than there are . . ." By taking " meer " as though it pre
ceded " oneyndelijke," we get " . . . there would be more
infinite substances not in existence than there are in exist
ence." This seems less unintelligible, but its relevancy is
not obvious. Perhaps it was only some reader s marginal
comment. B omits it.

25, 9-13. The identification of Nature with God does not
appear to be a plausible conclusion from what precedes.
Freudenthal has suggested that this sentence is in the
wrong place, and should follow immediately after line 12
on p. 23.

25, 14^. The consideration of objections which begins
here is regarded by Avenarius and Sigwart as a later inter
polation. The main argument, they say, is continued on
the following page, line 20, the intervening paragraphs
being obviously a digression. But whether it is a later

COMMENTARY 177

insertion or not ; the passage does not seem to me to be
really a digression. Its purpose is to confirm by a different
line of argument the identification of God with Nature,
which is the burden of the preceding paragraph. The usual
conception of Nature as created by, and different from,
God, tacitly assumes that there is a difference between the
ideas or plans of God, and His realisation or actualisation
of these ideal possibilities. By attacking this distinction
between the ideal and the real, between the possible and
the actual, Spinoza evidently helps to confirm his identifica
tion of God and Nature, both of which are real, and the
totality of all that is real. Viewed in this way, the passage
forms an important part of Spinoza s argument, and we find
it repeated in the Ethics, I. xvii. Schol.

25, 24 /. Spinoza s view that God " cannot create what is
self-contradictory " is also found in Maimonides, and is
opposed to the view of Descartes. Descartes put no limita
tions whatever to God s omnipotence (except apparently in
Med. VI.) ; even contradictory propositions might be true
together if God willed it so. Maimonides, on the other
hand, maintained that even God could not endow a thing
with contradictory qualities (Guide, III. xv. p. 279).

25, 25. " As it is . . . " = for it is self-contradictory, or
it is like expecting God to do what is self-contradictory,
when we say, &c.

25, 31. Merely verbal alternatives. See note to 15, 21.

26, i ff. The subtle conundrum, whether God can know
more than He does know, was actually discussed by Peter
Lombard, Bishop of Paris (died 1134).

26, 22 /. " Although . . ." Spinoza is here alluding to
Descartes assumption (Princ. Phil. I. Ix.) that " it is suffi
cient to assure us that two substances are really mutually
distinct if only we are able clearly and distinctly to conceive
the one of them without the other."

26, 32. " Infinite," that is, in number as well as in extent.

178 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

27, 3 ff. It has not yet been shown that it is impossible for
substances to begin to exist ; nor is it shown in this Treatise
as we now have it. Something seems, therefore, to be
missing.

27, 6 ff. " Substance " is not used here in the stricter
sense, but instead of "attribute." The "essence" of the
one " substance " (in the stricter meaning) does involve
" existence," but when either Thought or Extension is
" considered separately," then we can conceive it clearly
without assuming its existence (cf. Cog. Metaph. I. ii.).
Note ff corrects the loose employment of the word " sub
stance " in the text.

28, i ff. Descartes, e.g., argued that "God cannot be
body," because extension involves divisibility, and this
again passivity, which is an imperfection, because it implies
dependence on something else (Princ. Phil. I. xxiii.).

28, 5. The account of Nature which follows in the text
contains many thoughts which are also found in the writ
ings of Giordano Bruno. See the notes to the first
Dialogue (p. 183 /.).

28,6. "Things of reason" mere modes of thought.
In the Cog. Metaph. (I. i. and iii.) Spinoza distinguishes as
follows between a real thing (ens reale), a chimera, a thing
of reason (ens rationis), and a fiction (ens fictum) : A chimera
is only a verbal expression denoting something which can
neither be, nor be conceived, because it involves a self-
contradiction (e.g., a square circle) ; a thing of reason (or a
merely logical entity) is a mode of thought which does not
exist outside the thinking mind, though it may be an im
portant means of representing extra-mental realities (e.g.,
genera and species, time, number, and measure) ; a fiction
is " a thing of reason," in so far as it is only a mode of
thought (or of imagination) and has no corresponding reality
outside the mind ; but not all " things of reason " are fictions,
only those which involve arbitrary or accidental imaginary

COMMENTARY 179

combinations. The Scholastics did not as a rule distinguish
between res fictce and entia rationis. Burgersdijck describes
both as " entia quorum esse nihil aliud est quam intelligi,"
that is, as mere modes of thought.

28, 7. " Nature" is here used in the narrower and more
usual sense, namely, as equivalent to "the physical world."
In the wider sense peculiar to Spinoza and Bruno, " Nature "
= Substance = the entire Universe. In " Nature " thus re
garded, " things of reason " have reality as modes of thought.
Hence the note (line 13), " In Nature, that is, in substantial
extension " = in the so-called Substance Extension, or in
"Substance" regarded solely under the "attribute" Ex
tension.

29, 3. The view that water " consists of straight oblong
particles " is Cartesian (Meteor ologia, I. 3).

29, 24. The " substance " referred to is that of Extension
("substance" here = "attribute " cf. note to 24, 31), of
which water is a "mode" or modification. Extension, it
is here maintained, is a continuum.

30, i /. What is here said to have been " already stated "
is first considered in the Dialogues which follow, and in
chapter iii. Apparently something is missing from the
preceding part of the Treatise.

30, 3. An " immanent " or " inner " cause is a cause whose
effects are confined within itself, as distinguished from a
" transeunt " or " transitive " cause which operates on things
outside itself. God, according to Spinoza, is an " imma
nent" cause for the same reason that he is causa sui,
namely, because " outside God there is nothing at all,"
whether to affect Him or to be affected by Him. This
conception involves, of course, the view that God is not
outside or above the world, but in it. In other words,
Spinoza s God is not a transcendent but an immanent God.
And since the time of Spinoza the doctrine of divine imma
nence has become a commonplace among theologians of all

iSo GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

the chief religions, instead of being more or less confined
to the more pronounced mystics, as it was till then.

30, loff. This illustration of an immanent cause (which
is also repeated on p. 34, line 30) seems unfortunate, be
cause Spinoza says distinctly (106, 20 ff. ; cf. also p. 37, note)
that the " Understanding" is only an abstraction ; it cannot,
therefore, cause anything. Had Spinoza revised the Treatise
for publication this and similar inconsistencies would have
been removed.

30, 24. " If body," &c. that is, if matter were really sub
stance, or if substance were merely matter, and had no other
attributes, &c.

31, 2 ff. In the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus (xiii.) there
is a similar distinction between God s " absolute attributes,"
which unfold the "absolute essence of God," and other
"attributes" (aspects or properties) which indicate His
relation to " created things."

31, 7. " An extraneous denomination " (denominatio extrin-
sica or externa) or " external designation " is contrasted with
an "intrinsic denomination" (denominatio interna or intrin-
sica). The latter unfolds the essential attributes of a thing ;
the former only the non-essential properties, accidents, &c.
The term is used somewhat loosely here. Usually Spinoza
means by "denominatio extrinsica " a term that indicates the
relation of one thing to another or what one thing is or
does to another, as distinguished from what it is in itself.
In this more usual sense self-existence, eternity, unity, and
immutability could hardly be described as "extraneous
denominations." Possibly there is a slight confusion in the
text ; or the division which Spinoza intended may have been
as follows. Whatever is predicated of God denotes either
(a) what is essential in Him, or (b) what is not essential ;
if non-essential (&), then it indicates either (i) a " pro
perty " of God other than, though deducible from, His
" essential attributes," but still representing what God

COMMENTARY 181

is in Himself, or (ii) some relationship in which God stands
to others. So long as Spinoza did not employ the term
" attribute " in the strict sense in which he here distinguishes
it from " properties/ anything coming under (a) or (b i)
would be designated as denominatio intrinsica, while (b ii)
alone would be described as denominatio extrinsica. But
owing to his stricter usage he had no suitable name for
(b i) as distinguished from both (a) and (b ii). He seems,
therefore, to have grouped (b i) and (b ii) together as
" extraneous denominations " in a wider sense. If so, the
word " either " has got misplaced somehow.

31, ii. " What he is "that is, essentially.

31, 12. "Attributes" = properties (not " attributes" in the
strict sense).

THE DIALOGUES

32. The Outline of the Short Treatise which was dis
covered and published by Boehmer does not mention the
Dialogues, although it refers to the Notes and the Appen
dices. This seems disquieting at first. Yet no one has
seriously questioned the authenticity of the Dialogues.
Their contents are as intimately connected with the line of
thought expounded in the rest of the Short Treatise as the
contents of the Treatise itself are with the trend of thought
in Spinoza s Ethics. But although their genuineness cannot
be disputed it may be questioned whether they originally
formed part of the Treatise, or were only subsequently
added either by Spinoza or some one else. The tendency is
to regard them as more or less independent essays, which
were only inserted afterwards in their present place by a
disciple or copyist. If their insertion was an afterthought,
then it is quite conceivable that some of the manuscripts of
the Short Treatise may not have contained the Dialogues ;

i82 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

and if Boehmer s Outline was based on such a manuscript
the omission of all reference to the Dialogues would thus be
accounted for. The fact that they are given in both codices,
A and B, of which A may have been copied already during
the lifetime of Spinoza, is certainly in their favour.

With remarkable agreement most critics have treated the
Dialogues as the oldest of Spinoza s known writings. The
arguments for this view mostly turn on their supposed
immaturity, fragmentariness, and crudeness. Freudenthal,
however, has shown (Spinozastudien, II.) that this view is
untenable, because the Dialogues are really unintelligible
unless they are read in the light of various ideas explained
in different parts of the Short Treatise. He maintains
(rightly, we think) that the Dialogues were written after the
the bulk of the Short Treatise, as separate and fuller elucida
tions of certain problems already briefly dealt with in the
Treatise, a familiarity with which they assumed. It is this
tacit reliance on the exposition of various views already
given in the Treatise that gives to the Dialogues an appear
ance of fragmentariness and crudeness. In reality they
are no more immature than the rest of the Short Treatise,
while their very assumption of the various doctrines ex
plained in the Treatise shows that they must have been
written later.

To some extent Sigwart anticipated Freudenthal s view
by showing that the second Dialogue might very well have
been written after the rest of the Treatise. But he insisted
that the first Dialogue must have been written some years
before the Treatise. The two Dialogues, however, can hardly
be separated. The second one really takes up the theme
with which the first concludes, and the closing remarks of
the second Dialogue seem to revert deliberately to the
opening words of the first.

COMMENTARY 183

FIRST DIALOGUE

The insertion of this Dialogue here was no doubt suggested
by the references to Nature in the preceding (second) chapter
(pp. 24-27). For this Dialogue gives a further exposition of
Spinoza s conception of Nature. The view of Nature as
animated and as coinciding with the Universe in all its
entirety and eternity is also found in the writings of
Giordano Bruno, especially in the Dialogues De la Causa,
&c. Avenarius and Sigwart have cited numerous passages
from Bruno which are similar in intent to this and other
parts of the Short Treatise. They even regard this Dialogue
as representing an early stage in the history of Spinoza when
he was under the more or less dominant influence of Bruno.
But no conclusive evidence has been adduced so far to show
that Spinoza was even acquainted with Bruno s writings.
And even Sigwart did not feel sure on this matter. Mar-
tineau thought that most of the resemblances between Bruno
and Spinoza were superficial and illusory. Neoplatonic views
similar to those of Bruno were very much in the intellectual
atmosphere of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and
Spinoza may have become familiar with them through
Jewish and other sources. In any case, the resemblance
between Spinoza and Bruno is by no means fundamental.
Spinoza went far beyond Bruno. Notwithstanding all his
rhapsodies on the infinity of Nature Bruno never quite
relinquished the idea of a God who was somehow above and
beyond Nature his God was still transcendent; Spinoza,
on the Bother hand, never wavered, he took his conception
of the infinity of Nature very strictly, and following up its
apparently logical implication he boldly identified Nature
with God, and conceived God as absolutely immanent in
Nature. Avenarius and others, basing their views on the
supposed early date of this Dialogue, have distinguished
three phases of Spinoza s Pantheism. In all of them

1 84 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

Spinoza identified the three terms, God, Nature, Substance,
by showing that the same predicates apply to each of them.
But at different stages, they say> Spinoza started with a
different term for his datum. In the first Dialogue, under
the supposed influence of Bruno, he set out from the term
Nature; this was the first phase. The Short Treatise was
supposed to represent the second phase, when, under the
influence of Descartes, he took his start from the term God
(see chapter i.). Lastly, the Ethics was said to represent
the third phase, when, having attained to complete inde
pendence and maturity, Spinoza commenced with the term
Substance. But this whole conception of the development
of Spinoza s philosophy is untenable. The supposed in
fluence of Bruno is problematic. The first Dialogue
already shows a knowledge of Descartes. And Spinoza s
attitude towards Cartesianism is fundamentally antagonistic
both in the Short Treatise and in the Dialogues. No Car
tesian could think of identifying God with Nature. So far
as his writings show, Spinoza identified God, Nature, and
Substance from the first, and seems to have attached no
peculiar significance to any of them as a starting-point. It
is true, of course, as Martineau and others have pointed out,
that the three terms, "though identical in their application,
differ somewhat in their meaning ; under Nature we are
expected to think of the continuous Source of birth; under
God, of the universal cause of things ; under Substance, of the
permanent reality behind phenomena." But that is another
matter.

82,11,15. " Understanding" "Reason." Understanding
is hardly the right word for what is meant here by the
Dutch Verstand = ? Intellectus. " Spirit " or " spiritual
insight " might be better in some respects. It represents
the highest form of knowledge, namely, knowledge by way
of immediate intuition. Reason, on the other hand, repre
sents the lower grade of knowledge by way of discursive

COMMENTARY 185

inference. It will be observed that " Understanding " does
not argue, but just delivers its " immediate apprehension "
(aanschouw), and takes no further part in the debate. The
distinction between Understanding and Reason is explained
in Book II. chapters xxi., xxii., xxvi., and a knowledge of
this distinction is evidently assumed in this Dialogue. In
the opening chapters of Book II. the same distinction is
drawn between Belief and Clear Knowledge. But the
nomenclature in this Dialogue agrees with that in the later
chapters.

32, 17. In omitting from the text the words given in the
foot-note (p. 32) we have adopted a suggestion of Freuden-
thal, which makes the meaning quite clear. All the words
(except "namely") which we have relegated to the foot-note,
also the words " we avoid this absurdity by stating that "
(lines 17 /.), are written in the margin in A. All these mar
ginal additions make the text unintelligible. Apparently the
words given in the foot-note represent some reader s attempt
to surmount the obscurity caused by the accidental omission
of the words " we avoid this absurdity by stating that"; but
when this omission was rectified the other additions were
still retained because their origin and significance were
unknown to the copyist.

32, 21 ff. " Desire" here means "evil desire" = concupi-
scentia, not cupiditas. Freudenthal has pointed out that
the expression usually employed in the Short Treatise for
"Desire" is Begeerte, while here we have Begeerlijkheid.
Moreover, Spinoza s conception of the function of "desire"
(cupiditas) as such is very different from the sinister role
which Begeerlijkheid plays in this Dialogue.

" Desire " voices here the dualistic view of Descartes
that there are two kinds of substances (extended and
thinking substances) which have nothing in common.
Spinoza combats this view in favour of his own monistic
theory.

i86 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

32, 25. The insertion of "not" was suggested by Freuden-
thal, who rightly pointed out that in Ethics, I., Definition ii.,
and in Letter IV., Spinoza says distinctly that "body is not
limited by thought, nor thought by body." Cf. p. 237, Def. iii.

S3, 3 /. The words "but this . . . nothing" are quite
inappropriate here. Freudenthal has suggested that they
must be some reader s marginal comment.

33, 16 ff. This outburst of indignation against " Desire " is
only intelligible in the light of Book II. chapter xiv. (p. 100),
an acquaintance with which is assumed.

33, 24 ff. It is noteworthy that the later objections raised
by " Desire" (lines 1-13) seem to be ignored by " Reason."
But they are considered in chapter ii. (pp. 25 ff.). Possibly
the lines 1-13 were not originally in the Dialogue. A reader
may have added in the margin these objections which he
copied from chapter ii., and an uncritical copyist may have
transfered the marginal note into the text.

33, 26 ff. The relation of substance to its attributes is
here described as a causal relationship ; the attributes are
supported by substance ; they depend on it not logically only,
but causally.

33, 29 /. The attributes are not actually called "modes"
here ; their relation to substance is simply [compared (for
argument s sake) with that of modes to attributes.

34, 12. A "second notion" (notio secunda) is contrasted
with a " first notion " (notio prima). The latter represents
what things really are, while the former is some mode of
conceiving things. The same antithesis was also expressed
by another pair of scholastic terms, namely, intentio prima
and intentio secunda. What the mind "intends" or appre
hends in the first instance is some concrete reality (say, a
particular tree), and this constitutes the " first intention " ;
but as the result of reflecting on and comparing such " first
intentions or notions " (as, e.g., when we compare various
trees, and mentally classify them into genera and species,

COMMENTARY 187

according to their resemblances and differences) we obtain
" second notions or intentions/ which do not directly
represent real things, but are so many ways of thinking
about them. Of course, even " second notions " are not
altogether "mere ideas," for they are grounded in the real
character of things.

34, 16. " The thinking power." The attribute Thought
is also described by Spinoza as a "power" in Letter XXXI I.
(statuo dari in Natura potentiam infinitam cogitandi) and in
the Ethics, II. i. SchoL, and II. xxi. Schol. On p. 120 (line 4)
the attribute Extension is similarly described as a "power."
The attributes thus seem to be conceived here as so many
" lines of force " in which God manifests or reveals Himself.

SECOND DIALOGUE

36. In Dr. W. Meyer s modern Dutch version of the Short
Treatise the second Dialogue is appended to the next chapter.
His reason will be considered in the first note to that chapter.
It is noteworthy that the concluding words of chapter ii.
(31, 1 6) do not refer to a second Dialogue they only refer
to a Dialogue (one, not two). This, however, may only
mean that the insertion of the second Dialogue in this place
was an afterthought. But it can hardly be separated from
the first Dialogue. It is the reference to the distinction
between immanent and transeunt causality at the end of
the first Dialogue that furnishes the theme of the second ;
and the concluding remarks of the second seem to refer
deliberately to the opening remarks of the first.

36, 3. " Theophilus." This name (in the Italiam forms
Teofilo and Filoteo) occurs also in Bruno s Dialogues De la
Causa, &c. ; and in Bruno s Dialogues, as in this, the
author s own views are put into the mouth of Theophilus."
This may be a mere coincidence, as the name would naturally
occur to a writer whose moral ideal was " the IOVQ of GocL"

1 88 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

36, 6-8. The reference is to 35, 3, and 41, 19.

36, 9-20. See 42, 21-24. An acquaintance with this
passage is clearly assumed.

36, 9. " A remote cause " is contrasted with a proximate
cause. The latter produces its effect immediately, without
the intervention of anything else, while the former produces
its (remote) effect by means of an intervening proximate
cause or a chain of proximate causes. The terms proximate
and remote are relative to a given effect ; every cause might
be both proximate and remote, but not in relation to the
same effect. A remote cause was supposed to be separated
from, not in contact with, its effect. Hence the difficulty
raised in the text as to how an immanent cause could also
be a remote cause.

36, 12-16. The text is corrupt. B seems to have substi
tuted "prior" for "remote" on account of the difficulties
presented by the text. The words which we have added in
square brackets are intended to suggest the real meaning of
the original text, in accordance with 42, 4 ff., and Ethics, I.
xxviii. Schol.

36, 22 /. See 147, 1-6.

37, 32 /. See 55, 12 /.

38, 12 f. 5*0146, 27 ff.

38, 27 /. See 147, 16-24.

39, Sff. In his CogitataMetaphysica,ll.x.,Spmozama mta ms
that nothing which has been created by God can be eternal.

39, igff. Cf. Clauberg s Logica Vetus et Nova, I. vi. 62.
" Sol est causa a qua conclave illuminatur ; sed remotio val-
varum est CAUSA SINE QUA NON fit illuminatio."

40, 1-3. See 133, 23 #.

40, 3-7. How this union with God is to be brought about
has already been indicated in the beginning of the first
Dialogue (32, 4^.), where it is stated that the perfection of
Love depends on that of the Understanding. Indeed the
sentence now under consideration may be regarded as the

COMMENTARY 189

final reply to the question raised there. This conception
of the Understanding (or Intellect) as the supreme bond of
union between Man and God is essentially Aristotelian, and
was adopted by the leading Jewish philosophers of the
Middle Ages, notably by Maimonides (see the writer s
Aristotle in Medieval Jewish Thought). In his Guide (III. li.)
Maimonides says expressly that " Man s love of God is
identical with his knowledge of Him"; he also uses the
expression " intellectual worship of God," which is so like
Spinoza s " intellectual love of God."

CHAPTER III

41. The way in which this chapter is copied in codex A

is apt to rouse suspicion. The second Dialogue ends near

the bottom of the page, leaving just about as much space

as is left at the bottom of most pages in that manuscript.

The last line of the Dialogue contains the last two words

only. Then in the middle of the same line we have

"Cap. III./ and four lines of very small writing follow to

the very bottom of the page. The next page shows the

same small handwriting, which, however, gets larger towards

the end of that page, where the usual space is left. On the

following page there are only five lines of big scrawl, more

than half the page being left blank. The concluding five

lines of chapter iii. are written on the next page, and are

immediately followed, on the same page, by " Cap. IV." The

numeral IV. has also been tampered with, so have the

numbers at the heads of several subsequent chapters. And

since chapter iii. treats of divine causality generally, while

the second Dialogue is devoted more particularly to God s

immanent causality, Dr. W. Meyer holds that the second

Dialogue was misplaced by the copyist, and should really

follow chapter iii. But with due deference to Dr. Meyer, it

seems doubtful whether the facts really necessitate this

N

GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

construction. It seems obvious that chapter iii. was copied
into A after chapter iv. (possibly also some of the rest of
the Treatise) had already been copied. But the copyist had
evidently left a space for chapter iii., though he miscalculated
the amount of space required. It is known that Spinoza s
manuscripts circulated among his friends in parts, just as
they were completed. Most likely the copyist of A had
the MS. of chapter iv. before he had that of chapter iii., so
he left some blank pages for the latter and copied it when
he got it afterwards. Chapter iii. is in the same hand
writing as the rest of the Treatise in A. And as regards the
alterations in the numerals it appears certain to me that the
Arabic numerals have simply been changed into Roman
ones the change being probably made by the fastidious
Monnikhoff. Lastly, as regards the contents of chapter iii.
and the second Dialogue, Spinoza is not at all particular
in this Treatise about repeating himself, and the second
Dialogue, as already shown, has a point of contact with the
first. If we had very scrupulous regard to connection of
content several of the chapters of the Treatise would have to
be transposed, as, indeed, Dr. Meyer himself has pointed out.

41, 12 ff. The elaborate classification of causes to which
Spinoza refers in this chapter is to be found in Franco
Burgersdijck s Institutionum Logicarum Libri Duo. Burgers-
dijck, as already stated, was Professor of Philosophy at
Leyden in the early decades of the seventeenth century,
and his book on logic, to judge by the numerous editions
still extant, must have been a most popular manual.
Several editions of the book were edited by Burgersdijck s
successor, Heereboord, to whom Spinoza refers in his Meta
physical Thoughts, II. xii. It was this reference to Heere
boord that Trendelenburg used as a clue to unravel this
complicated and somewhat obscure classification of causes.

Though complex, the classification was really not so
fanciful as may first appear. Substitute " conditions " for

COMMENTARY 191

" causes," and the classification still contains much that is
true and valuable. If by " cause " we mean " the totality of
conditions/ then there is no room for any such elaborate
classification of causes. But for all practical purposes we
are satisfied to apply the term " cause " to something very
far short of "the totality of conditions/ and Mill has shown
how arbitrary popular usage is in singling out now this, now
that condition as " the cause/ when, as a matter of fact, all
the conditions are equally necessary, if not equally striking
or interesting on different occasions of the same kind of
occurrence. It was according to this wider and looser use
of the term that " causes " were classified in such an elaborate
way. The accompanying table (see next page) is taken from
Burgersdijck s Logic (p. 282 of the London edition of 1651).

In the accompanying table we see the then usual Aristo
telian division of Causes into Material, Formal, Efficient,
and Final, each of these being again subdivided in various
ways. It would take up too much space to deal with all of
them here. We are only concerned with the eightfold
division of Efficient causes, which Spinoza has in view in
the present chapter. It will be observed that Spinoza
enumerates them in precisely the same order as they are
given in the following table from Burgersdijck s Logic. The
following definitions are also taken from the same book.

41, 15. An emanative cause is one which produces its
effect by its sheer existence, while an active (or acting) cause
is one which produces its effect through the medium of
some activity which it exercises. Fire, for instance, is the
emanative cause of its own heat, but an active cause of the
heat which it imparts to other things. Spinoza practically
does away with this distinction in the case of God. " Ema
native " here has nothing to do with the " Emanation " theory
of Neoplatonism or Mysticism. Spinoza did not use the
expression in the Ethics, possibly in order to avoid this
suggestion of " emanation."

192 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

BURGERSDIJCK S CLASSIFICATION OF CAUSES

" 8

O/(C-/ (

/ Mater ia ;
eaque vel

( Prima,
1 Secunda.
j, j Rerum Naturalium,
1 ,, Artificialium.
j jj j Generation! s,
\ Compositions.

I.

Materialis^
hnmaterialis.

Forma ;

II.

Substantiate ,
Accidentalis.

eaque vel

III.
IV.

Naturalis,
Artificialis.

Principalis,
Disponens.

"s?

/.

Activa,
Emanativa.

1

II. -

Itnmanens,
Transiens.

\ ,

III. .

Lib era,
Necessaria.

1

IV. .

Per se,
Per accidens.

Efficiens;
eaque vel

*\

VI.

Principalis,
(Procatarctica,
k Minus principalisl Proegumena,
\Instrumentum.
Prima,
Secunda.

VII.

Universalis,
Particulars.

\ VIII.

Proxima,
Reniota.

Finis; ,
\ isque vel

j J Cut,
1 Cujus.
jj j Principalis,
\ Secundarius.
jjj ) Subordinatus,
{ Ultimus.

COMMENTARY 193

41, 19. The distinction between an immanent and a tran-
seunt cause has already been explained in the note to 30, 3.

41, 22. A free cause (according to Burgersdijck) is one
which acts from deliberate choice ; a natural (or necessary)
cause is one which acts from necessity (causa libera est, qua
consulto id est, ex judicio rationis causat. Necessaria, qua
non consulto , sed necessitate naturce causat). This distinction,
however, did not commend itself to Spinoza. He employed
these antithetic terms somewhat differently. By a free cause
(as will be seen in the next chapter) he meant one which
acts without any external compulsion, or externally imposed
necessity. In this sense a cause might be free although
acting from necessity, namely, when the necessity was in
herent in its own character, and not due to outside forces.

42, i. A cause through himself, or causa per se, is one whose
effects are due to his or its own natural character ; a cause
per accidens is one which produces a certain effect not as
the result of its own character, but owing to some unusual
circumstances. Heereboord gives the following illustration.
When an animal gives birth to one of its own kind it is a
causa per se, but when it gives birth to a monstrosity then
it is causa per accidens. Burgersdijck remarks, with quiet
humour, Ad causam per accidens revocatur fortuna et casus.

42, 4-14. A principal cause is one which produces an
effect by virtue of its own powers alone, without the aid of
anything else. A subsidiary cause (causa minus principalis)
is merely one condition or factor which is necessary but
not adequate to produce a certain effect. Three kinds of
subsidiary causes were recognised. Spinoza refers to them
all, but somewhat obscurely. In lines 7-9 he illustrates not
the subsidiary cause in general, but one special form of it,
namely, the instrumental cause (instrumentum). Almost any
means employed in the production of an effect was called an
instrumental cause. A second species of subsidiary cause is
the provoking or inciting cause (causa procatarctica vel causa

194 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

incipiens aut inchoans) that is, any external thing or condi
tion which incites the principal cause to action. The third, and
last, kind of subsidiary cause is the predisposing cause (causa
proegumena), or some internal condition which predisposes
a thing towards a certain kind of action or process. For
instance, if a man with a weak chest becomes very ill in
consequence of a cold caught while in a draughty place,
then the draught would be described as the provoking (or
inciting} cause, while hisjweak chest or feeble constitution
would be the predisposing cause. (Bain made a somewhat
similar distinction, though of wider applicability, when he
analysed a cause into a "moving power" and a "colloca
tion of circumstances.")

Spinoza s departure from Burgersdijck s division of the
causa minus principalis is, I think, explicable by the fluctuat
ing views of the text-books on this point. Clauberg (a copy
of whose Logica Vetus et Nova Spinoza is known to have
possessed) divided the efficient causes into causa principalis
and causa instrumental. No doubt this is the division
which Spinoza had in view in lines 4-9. On the other
hand, Keckermann (a copy of whose Sy sterna Logicce was also
among Spinoza s books) divided as follows :

[ principalis. r

~ rr L j I proegumena.

Causa efficiens \ [ tmpulstva,

.,..,,. 1 procatarctica.

\ minus principals. 1

[ instrumentalis.

This also gives the four subdivisions practically in the
same order as Spinoza refers to them.

42, 15. A first cause is one which is not dependent on
(or not the effect of) any other cause ; a causa secunda is
dependent on a first cause.

42, 17. A universal cause was contrasted with a particular
one as follows. The latter can only produce one kind of
effect ; the former can produce different kinds of effects
by co-operating with various other causes. God, according

COMMENTARY 195

to Spinoza, may be described as a universal cause in so far as
He is not restricted to any one kind of effect, but not in the
sense that He can co-operate with causes outside Himself.

42, 21. For the distinction between a proximate and a
remote cause see the note to 36, 9.

CHAPTER IV

43. The theme of this chapter is also discussed by Spinoza
in the Ethics, I. xvi. xvii. xxxiii., and in the Tractatus
Theologico-Politicus, vi.

43, 23 ff. Compare the following passage from the Cogitata
Metaphysica (I. iii.) : " Since nothing exists except by divine
power alone, it is easy to see that those things which come
into existence do so by virtue of the decree and will of God.
But since there is neither inconstancy nor change in God,
He must have decreed from eternity that He would produce
those things which He produces now ; and as in order that
a thing may exist nothing more is required than God s decree
that it should exist, it follows that all created things have
been under an eternal necessity to be in existence. Nor can
we say that they are contingent because God could have
decreed otherwise ; for, since in eternity there is no when,
or before, or after, or any other change of time, it follows
that God did not exist before those things were decreed, to
be able at all to decree otherwise." On the other hand, in
Cogit. Metaph. II. vii. Spinoza says that "if God willed it so,
created things would have a different essence."

44, 19. The usual scholastic definition of Freedom.
Burgersdijck (Inst. Log. cap. xvii.) says : Causa libera potest
agere quicquid, quantum, et quando lubet. Heereboord (Coll.
Eth. p. 114 quoted by Sigwart) says distinctly that most
philosophers denned free-will as facultas qua positis omnibus
ad agendum requisitis potest agere et non agere, aut ita agere
unum, ut contrarium agere possit. Cf. Descartes, Med. IV.

196 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

46, 8. " This " = that God could not have made things
different from what they are (see p. 45, 19 ff.).

46, 12-15. This sentence, and also the last in the same
paragraph, appear to be quite irrelevant. B omits them.
Most probably they are only the marginal comments of
some reader, and not a part of the original text.

CHAPTER V

47. Joel has drawn attention to similar views on Provi
dence in the writings of Hasdai Crescas (The Light of the
Lord, II. ii. i); also to the fact that Crescas, while treating
of Providence, employs the same illustration which Spinoza
gives on p. 42, line 8.

47, 4-6. This striving is described, in the Tractatus Theo-
logico-Politicus (cap. xvi.), as the highest law of Nature (Lex
summa Naturce est, ut unaqucequc res in suo statu, quantum
in se est, conetur perseverare), and (ibid. cap. vi.) Providence
is identified with the ordo Nature?. For Spinoza s (later)
explanation of this striving, see Ethics, III. iv. vi. vii.

CHAPTER VI

48. See Cogitata Metaphysica, I. iii., and Ethica, I. xxxiii.
48, 3. " Attribute" is here used in the wider sense =

proprietas.

48, 10. " Accidental " = that which is neither necessary nor
impossible. In the passages referred to above, Spinoza
distinguishes between the " contingent" and the " possible,"
which may be regarded as the two species of the "acci
dental." The main point is that according to him nothing
really is "accidental," only some things are regarded as
accidental on account of our ignorance of the causes or
their operation.

48, 24^. A modal proposition (e.g., "S is an accidental
cause ") was said to be in sensu diviso or in sensu composito
according as the qualifying expression ("accidental")

COMiMENTARY

197

referred to the copula ("is") or to one of the terms ("S" or
"cause"). See, e.g., Duns Scotus, Qu. super Anal. pr. I. 25.

49, 8-1 1. The meaning is clear, though awkwardly ex
pressed. " If the cause were no more compelled to produce
this or that than not to produce it, then . . ."

49, 27. The original wording in A seems to have been
" that God is the only cause, the cause of all things." But
this was subsequently altered by the copyist, arbitrarily, it
would seem, as the changes are anything but an improvement.

49, 28-34. / Ethica, I. xxxii.

49, 35 ff. This objection, as Joel has pointed out, was
mentioned and dealt with by Maimonides and Crescas.
Maimonides (Guide, III. xvi.) ascribed the objection to
Alexander Aphrodisiensis (circa 200), the author of a treatise
On Providence.

50, i^ff. Cf. Maimonides (Guide, III. xviii.) : "It is an
established fact that species have no existence except in our
own minds. Species and other classes are merely ideas
formed in our minds, while everything in real existence is
an individual object, or an aggregate of individual objects.
. . . It is wrong to say that divine providence extends only
to the species, and not to individual beings, as some of the
philosophers teach. For only individual beings have real
existence."

50, 21-27. Compare CogitataMetaphysica (II. vii.): "What,
indeed, is more absurd than to exclude from God s know
ledge individual things, which could not exist for a moment
without the concurrence of God ? And then they maintain
that God is ignorant of actually existing things, while they
ascribe to God a knowledge of universals, which do not
exist and have no essence apart from that of the individual
things. We, on the contrary, attribute to God the know
ledge of individual things, and not of universals, except in
so far as He knows human minds."

51, 9 ff. The same illustration occurs in Descartes, Med. VI.

198 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

CHAPTER VII

52. Spinoza seems to refer to this chapter in his Tractatus
de Intellectus Emendatione (Van Vloten and Land s edition,
1895, vol. i. p. 24, note i).

53, 1-6. This view is found, for instance, in Heereboord
(Disput. ex Philosophia, vol. i. p. 147, quoted by Sigwart).

53, 9-11. Owing partly to the desire to maintain the
absolute Unity of God (with which a multiplicity of attri
butes was thought to be inconsistent), and partly from the
anxiety to avoid comparing God with man, there arose in
Arabic and Jewish medieval philosophy a tendency to
explain away the attributes usually ascribed to God (espe
cially in the Bible and the Koran). These attributes were
accordingly treated as having solely a negative import, that
is, as predicating what God is not rather than what He is,
or as denying some imperfection rather than affirming any
(human or quasi-human) characteristic of Him. (Mai-
monides, e.g., sums up his inquiry into God s attributes as
follows : " It has thus been shown that every attribute
predicated of God either denotes the quality of an action,
or when this attribute is intended to convey some idea of
the Divine Being Himself, and not of His actions the
negation of the opposite." Thus " we use One in reference
to God to express that there is nothing similar to Him, but
we do not mean to say that an attribute Unity is added to
His essence." Guide, I. Ivii. Iviii.) A similar tendency
appeared also in Christian Scholasticism. This kind of
" negative theology" seems to have been started first by
Philo Judasus, of Alexandria, the founder of Neoplatonism.

53, 13 /. Spinoza is referring to Thomas Aquinas. See
20, 16 ff.

53, i()ff. Compare 30, 31 ff. and the notes thereto.

54, $ff. Cf. Cogitata Metaphysica, I. vi., where Spinoza
says that "good" and "evil" only indicate a certain rela-

COMMENTARY

199

tion of one thing to another. "A thing considered by
itself is called neither good nor bad ; it is so only in relation
to another thing, according as it helps it to obtain what it
requires, or not." Spinoza, however, allows the application
of " supremely good" to God on the ground that all things
only exist through Him.

54, 20 ff. Cf. Tractatus de Intellectus Emendatione (Van
Vloten and Land, ed. 1895, vol. i. pp. 28 ff. White and
Stirling s translation, pp. 51 ff.).

55, 15 /. Adopting the emendation suggested by Sigwart,
we should read here : " Since, as attributes of a self-sub
sisting being, they exist through themselves, they also
become known through themselves " nam quia ut attributa
entis per se existentis [per se~\ existunt, etiam per se concipi-
untur. This makes the meaning clearer.

55, 20 /. Although the term genus is here applied to attri
bute (because the attribute here takes the place of the genus in
the old rule of definition) it must not be forgotten that the
attribute, according to Spinoza, is not generic, but singular.

In the Treatise on the Improvement of the Understanding
Spinoza says that the definition of a created thing " should
include the proximate cause," which he there identifies
with the infinite modes Motion and Understanding, ac
cording as the finite mode to be explained is a mode of
Extension or of Thought (vol. i. p. 31 in ed. 1895).

55, 26. The reference is to the Answers to the first, second,
and third objections (appended to Descartes Meditations),
where Descartes maintains, against Sassendi, that, although
we cannot have a completely adequate knowledge of God,
we can have a clear and distinct knowledge of some of His
attributes.

CHAPTER VIII

56. The distinction between Natura naturans and Natura
naturata may be traced back to Aristotle s distinction between

200 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

the Unmoved (Mover) and the Moved. In the writings
of Augustine (354-430) the Aristotelian division is de
veloped into a threefold distinction, namely, (i) a Creator
who was not created, (2) the created which also creates, and
(3) that which has been created but does not create. Scotus
Erigena added a fourth distinction (so as to complete the
dichotomous scheme), namely, (4) that which neither creates
nor has been created (= nothing). Scotus Erigena (ninth
century) already maintained that God and the Universe are
identical ; Nature regarded as a creating totality being the
same as God, while Nature regarded as a multiplicity of
created things is what is called the world. This mode of
thought was developed more fully by Averroes (1126-1198),
the chief of the Arabian Aristotelians.
56, 3-11. Cf. Ethics, I. xxix. Schol.

56, 12 ff. Cf. Ethics, I.xxviii. Schol., where the division of
Natura naturata into " general " and " particular " is replaced
by that into things produced by God " immediately " and
" mediately."

CHAPTER IX

57, 2-8. Probably for the reasons stated in lines 7, 8, Un
derstanding and Motion are referred to in the Treatise on
the Improvement of the Understanding as res fix& et ceternce.
They are also commonly referred to as the u infinite modes."
Cf. Letter LXIV.

57, 18, 20. It seems strange that Motion should be de
scribed as a " Son of God." But its correspondence or
parallelism with Understanding, in Spinoza s scheme, com
pelled him to predicate of Motion whatever he affirmed of
the Understanding by way of epithets indicating position in
the scheme. And to describe Understanding as the " Son of
God " was, of course, Biblical i Cor. i. 24 : Christ the power
of God, and the wisdom of God. It was, no doubt, with
reference to this Scriptural passage that Spinoza wrote in

COMMENTARY 201

Letter LXXIII. : " I do not think it at all necessary for one s
salvation to know Christ according to the flesh; but as
regards the eternal Son of God, that is, God s eternal
wisdom, which has manifested itself in all things, especially
in the human mind, and most of all in Christ Jesus, one
must think otherwise. For without this no one can attain to
a state of bliss, because it alone shows what is true or false,
good or evil."

57,2i. The expression " created . . . from all eternity"
amounts to a denial of " creation" in its usual sense.
Spinoza makes this quite clear in Cogitata Metaphysica,
II. x. : " Neither was the Son of God created, He was eternal
like the Father. When, therefore, we say that the Father
had begotten the Son from eternity, we only mean that the
Father has always shared His eternity with the Son."

57, 23-27. It is not certain whether this note was written
by Spinoza, to whom it refers in the third person as " the
author " quite a unique form in Spinoza s writings. The
information conveyed is accurate in so far as Spinoza did
occupy himself with, and intended to write on, the most
general problems of Physics. We gather this from Letters
LIX., LX., LXXXIII. But the note seems quite irrelevant.
Apparently it refers to some remark in the text which
was subsequently struck out.

58, 6. "Affects." The Dutch is Aandoeningen, which
may be a too literal translation of Affectus. The usual ex
pression is passien or tochten.

CHAPTER X

59. Entia Rationis and Entia Realia. See note to 28, 6.

59, ii ff. Spinoza s criticism of the terms "good" and
" evil " is different in different parts of this Treatise. On
p. 51 (lines 4-15) also in Cog. Metaph. (I. vi.), in the Tract,
de Intel. Emend., and in the Ethics (Appendix to Part I.) the

202 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

criticism turns on the implication of purpose. On the same
page (lines i6ff.) also in Letter XIX. the criticism turns
on the implied comparison of individual things with general
ideas. In the passage now under consideration also in
Ethics, IV. Ixv. the criticism turns on the relative or
relational character of the terms " good " and " evil."

59, 28 ff. The concluding paragraph of the chapter looks
suspicious. The force of the additional argument is not
obvious. Nor is there anything like its trend of ideas
elsewhere in Spinoza. Sigwart is accordingly inclined to
regard it as an interpolation by a disciple of Spinoza.

SECOND PART

PREFACE

63. Cf. Ethics, II., the opening sentences, and propositions
x. and xi.

63, 12 ff. This long addition was most probably not meant
to be a " note " at all, and seems to be misplaced. See the
comment on chapter i. The different parts of this long
note may be compared with Spinoza s other utterances as
follows: i. Cf. Ethics, II. x. ; 3. cf. Ethics, II. i. ; 4. cf.
Ethics, I. xxx., II. iii. iv. ; 6-8. cf. Ethics, II. xiii. (to the end
of Lemma i.) ; 9. cf. Ethics, II. xi. ; 10-12. cf. Ethics, II.
Lemma iii.-vii. ; 13. cf. Ethics, II. xii. xiv. ; 14. cf. Ethics,
IV. xxxix. 15. This part of the note is not really essential,
and is in any case inaccurate. The contrast required is that
between union with substances and union with modes ; that
given is between union with thought and union with exten
sion, both of which are substances in the looser sense that
is, " attributes of substance." Probably this part of the note
was not written by Spinoza in its present form.

64, i. See pp. 21 ff.

COMMENTARY 203

66, 1-5. According to the reservation here made, God or
Substance is no part of the nature of man, because although
man could not be, or be conceived without God, yet God
could well be, and be conceived without man. Cf. Ethics, II.,
Definition ii., and prop. x.

CHAPTER I

67. The opening words of this chapter, also the opening
and concluding remarks of the Preface (p. 63, lines 6ff., and
p. 66, lines $ff.\ lead one to expect an exposition of "the
modes of which man consists." What is actually considered
in this chapter is the three kinds of knowledge, while "the
modes of which man consists " are discussed in the long
note to the Preface (pp. 63 ff.) Freudenthal has therefore
suggested the following explanation. Originally chapter i.
did treat of " the modes of which man consists." But, dis
satisfied with that first account, Spinoza wrote a new exposi
tion to replace or to supplement it. Owing, however, to
some misunderstanding of reference signs the copyist or
translator treated the new exposition as a note to the Pre
face, omitting at the same time the older account, which
Spinoza had probably crossed through, or marked in some
way as unsatisfactory. Note f seems to be a feeble attempt
on the part of a reader or copyist to reconcile the opening
words with the actual contents of the chapter.

67, 7 /. The meaning is clear, namely, the modes to be
considered first are the modes of thought, because these are
known or experienced more immediately than the modes of
extension (i.e., material objects, including human bodies),
our knowledge of all modes of extension being, of course,
included among the modes of cognition. The language,
however, is rather obscure. What is "the consciousness of
the knowledge of ourselves " ? It has been suggested by
Freudenthal that the original Latin may have been, " Incipi-
amus ab Us qui primi nobis cogniti sunt, scilicet a quibusdam

204 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

ideis vel a cognitione nostri et delude agamus de rebus qua
extra nos sunt," and that " cognitione nostri" was (like so
many other expressions in the Treatise) translated twice over
by " medegeweten " (translated " consciousness ") and " ken-
nisse," and the whole misconstrued. In accordance with this
plausible emendation we should read here : ". . . certain
ideas or our knowledge, and then we shall treat of the things
which are outside us."

67, ioff. Here we have a threefold classification of the
different kinds of knowledge, which is developed into a four
fold scheme by subdividing the first kind of knowledge. In
chapter ii. the distinction between the two subdivisions of
the first kind of knowledge is passed over, while it is empha
sised in chapter iv. (76, 17 ff.). In the Tractatus de Intel-
lectus Emendatione (pp. 7 ff.) we find the fourfold scheme,
while in the Ethics, II. xl. Schol. 2, Spinoza returns to the
threefold scheme. The special stress laid on the fourfold
scheme in the Tr. de Int. Em. (as Gebhardt has suggested)
was probably due to the influence of Bacon. Indeed, the
name of the second kind of knowledge (or of the second
subdivision of what is here the first kind), namely, perceptio
ab experientia vaga, occurs in Bacon s Novum Organum, I. c.
In a note in the Tr. de Int. Em. (p. 9) Spinoza promises a
fuller account of " experience," and of the methods of
"recent empirical philosophers/ The reference is most
probably to Bacon, from whose estimate of experience
Spinoza differed, maintaining (as against Bacon) that " it is
something altogether uncertain, ... by means of it the
accidents only of natural things are apprehended, and they
are never clearly understood without a previous knowledge
of their essences " (ibid.).

67, ii. The first kind of knowledge (in the threefold
scheme) is here called "belief," but in chapters ii. and iv.
(and elsewhere) " opinion." The Latin was probably the
same in all cases, namely, opinio. In English also " belief

COMMENTARY 205

is sometimes used for " opinion " ; e.g., " I am not sure, but
that is my belief " (or " I believe so").

67, 13. The second kind of knowledge, here called "true
belief" (on p. 69, line 14, simply "Belief"), is described on
p. 74, line 19, as "a strong proof based on reasons." The
distinction between " Opinion" and "True Belief" there
fore recalls the Platonic (or even pre- Platonic) distinction
between o ?a and 7rt(rr?//Aiy.

"Belief" (or "true belief") seems a strange designation
for reasoned or discursive knowledge. Spinoza himself
substituted "Reason" afterwards (see, e.g., p. 99, line 16
" True Belief or Reason "). Joel, however, has pointed out
that Crescas employed the term " Belief " in the same sense.
The expression " true belief " may have been suggested by
the following passage from Maimonides Guide (I. 1.) :
" Belief ... is the conviction that what is apprehended
exists outside the mind exactly as it is conceived in the
mind. If in addition we are convinced that the thing
cannot be different in any way from what we believe it
to be ... then the belief is true."

67, 14. Sigwart has pointed out that the distinction
between what is here called "clear and distinct concep
tion" (or immediate intuition) and "true belief" (or
discursive reasoning) is also found in Descartes (especially
in the Regiila ad directionem ingenii, which, however, was
only published in 1701, and was therefore unknown to
Spinoza). But Descartes laid no such stress on the dis
tinction, and also conceived it rather differently. Descartes
" immediate intuition " was mathematical in character and
referred to the apprehension of the truth of certain proposi
tions, especially the cogito ergo sum ; Spinoza s "clear and
distinct knowledge" is mystical in character, and referred
to the apprehension of objects, especially of God.

67, 15-17. Cf. Ethics, II. xli.

67, 25 ff. See the first comment on this chapter.

o

206 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

The three foot-notes on this page, and the first three foot
notes on p. 68, are most probably marginal notes or sum
maries made by some reader of the MS. from which A
was copied.

CHAPTER II

69, 22 ff. Cf. Ethics, IV. Appendix, iii.: "Our actions, that
is to say, those desires which are determined by man s power
or reason, are always good ; the others may be good or
evil." Cf. also Ethics, III. iii.

" Passion" (7rd6o$ = passio, affectus, or perturbatio) was used
in the time of Spinoza, and even later, in a much wider sense
than at present. It denoted not the violent emotions only,
but all feelings, sentiments, and desires, as so many ways in
which the mind "suffers" or "is affected" by external things.

69,26ff. Cf. Ethics, II. Axiom iii.: "Such modes of
thought as love, desire ... do not arise unless there is
also, in the same individual, an idea of the thing loved,
desired, &c. But the idea may be there even when no
other mode of thought is present."

The view that " knowledge is the proximate cause of all
the passions" is opposed to the Cartesian view, according
to which the passions " are produced, sustained, and
strengthened by some movement of the animal spirits"
(De Passionibus Animcz, I. 27). Spinoza assigns a purely
mental origin to the passions, while Descartes ascribed
them in large measure to physiological causes.

CHAPTER III

70. In his treatment of the passions in this and the
following chapters Spinoza follows closely Descartes order
of exposition in hisDe Passionibus Anima, Parts II. and III.
(This was already noticed by Boehmer when he published
the Outline of the Short Treatise.) The following tables (see
opposite) (taken, with slight changes, from Sigwart) will
make this clear.

COMMENTARY

207

DESCARTES DE PASSIONI-
BUS ANIM^E

SPINOZA S SHORT TREATISE

PART II.

PART II.

69-148. Admiratio

Ch. iii. Admiratio

Amor

,, v. Amor

Odium

,, vi. Odium (Aversio)

Cupiditas

,, vii. Cupiditas

Lcetitia

,, ,, Lcetitia

Mceror

,, ,, Tristitia

PART III.

149-152. Existimatio et De-

,, viii. Existimatio et Contemptus

spectus

153-156. Generositas et Humi

,, ,, Generositas (?), Humilitas

litas

,, 157-161. Superbia et Humilitas

,, ,, Superbia, Abjectio

vitiosa

,, 161-164. Veneratio et Dedig-

natio

165. Spes et Metus

Ix. S/tes ^ Metus

1 66. Securitas et Desperatio

,, ,, Securitas , Desperatio

167-169. Zelotypia

, , 170. Animi fluduatio

,, ,, Animi fluctuatio

171. Animositas et Audacia

,, Intrepiditas et Audacia

172. & mulatto

,, ,, ALmulatio

,, 174176. Pusillanimitas et Con-

,, ,, Pusillanimitas, Zelotypia

sternatio

,, 177. Consdentice morsus

,, x. Consdentice morsus

178-181. Irrisio et Jocus

,, xi. Irrisio et Jocus

,, 182-184. Invidia

,, ,, Invidia

, , 186-189. Commiseratio

xiv. Desiderium

190. Acquiescentia in se

ipso

,, 191. Pcenitentia

,, ,, Pcenitentia

,, 192. Favor

,, xiii. Favor

,, 193, 194. Gratitudo et Ingrati-

,, ,, Gratitudo et Ingratitudo

tudo

, , 195-203. Indignatio et Ira

,, ,, 7ra, Indignatio

,, 204206. Gloria et Pudor

xii. Honor et Pudor

, , 207. Impudentia

,, ,, Impudentia

209. Desidenum

208 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

As regards details, there are numerous important dif
ferences between Spinoza s and Descartes views on the
passions.

lQ,8ff. Spinoza s account of " surprise" is original.
Descartes simply described it as evoked by " things rare
and extraordinary," but he did not explain it.

70, 28 ff. The concluding part of the note seems to be
directed against the view that Surprise is evoked chiefly
by what is absolutely new. But the thought is expressed
imperfectly.

72, 20 ff. Spinoza s account of Hatred is very different
from that of Descartes (op. cit. II. 79).

73, 4 /. The account here given of Desire is reversed in
Ethics, III. ix. SchoL, where it is maintained that we do not
" desire anything because we think it is good, but, on the
contrary, we judge a thing to be good because we ...
desire it."

CHAPTER IV

74, 9/. In geometry, e.g., we reason that such and such a
figure must have such and such properties ; but we do not
prove thereby that such a figure actually exists.

74, 19 ff. The meaning of " Belief " here (as already
remarked) is peculiar. Equally peculiar is the use here
made of the term " Knowledge " ( = spiritual intuition), and
the way in which " Belief " and " Knowledge " are con
trasted. Joel has drawn attention to parallel passages in
the writings of Crescas, two of which may be given here.
In words very like lines 19-21 Crescas says that " Belief is
only the conviction resulting from the necessity of the case
that the thing outside the soul is such as it is represented to
be in the soul." In contrast to Belief, clear Knowledge is
described by Spinoza (in lines 25, 30 /. and elsewhere) as
an "immediate union " with and " intellectual enjoyment"
of what is thus known. Crescas distinguishes between

COMMENTARY 209

Belief and another form of knowledge as follows : " We
accept some views from a feeling of (logical) necessity,
others with a feeling of joy and gladness. Our Bliss
depends, not on Belief, but on the joy which accompanies
Knowledge. For . . . only joy can unite us with God"
(The Light of the Lord, II. v. 5, quoted by Joel).

75, 13 /. The assertion referred to is not found in the
Treatise. Apparently some part containing such a state
ment has been lost.

75, 23 ff. Cf. the comments on I.x. (p. 201 /.). Cf. Ethics,
IV., Preface, Def. i. and ii., and Appendix, v.

76, 6/. Spinoza may be referring to the first chapter of
his Cogitata Metaphysica, which is entitled De Ente Reali,
Ficto, et Rationis, which was probably written already,
though the whole work of which it forms a part was not
completed and published till 1663.

76, 26 ff. The new point of view is noteworthy. So far
the passions were judged by the kind of knowledge which
produced them ; we now observe a new criterion, namely,
the character of the objects which are loved, &c.

lit 3ff* This brief and somewhat peculiar treatment of
" surprise " almost prepares one for its subsequent exclusion
from the class of "affects "(or passions) in Ethics, 1 1 1. (Def. iv.
of the Affects). It is possible, however, that originally this
chapter was followed by one on " Surprise."

CHAPTER V

78. Love, it should be noted, is here distinguished
according to the character of its objects, not according to
the kind of cognition from which it results, which was the
mode of procedure suggested at the beginning of chapter iii.
(p. 70). Descartes, it may be remarked, rather disparaged
any such distinctions based on the character of the objects
loved (De Pass. An. 11.82).

210 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

78, 15 /. "God, or ... Truth." C/. p. 103, line 16 God
is Truth, Truth is God. Because by "Truth" Spinoza
means "the real essence of things as thought" (Martineau).

78, I7/. According to this, love is always "intellectual."
Descartes had distinguished between amor intellectualis and
amor sensitivus, the latter of which was supposed to be due
entirely to physiological causes.

78, 20 ff. In the Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, cap. xvi.,
Spinoza speaks of it as " a universal law of human nature "
that we can only relinquish what we think good in one of
the two ways stated here.

79, 8ff. This explanation of love appears to be original ;
it is not in Descartes.

80,30-32. One would expect "... God alone is a
substance . . ." The Dutch is weezen (essence), weezens
(essences), wezen (entity).

81, i$ff. On the "intellectual love of God" (Amor Dei
intellectualis) see Ethics, V. xxxii./.

CHAPTER VI

82, 3/. This definition of Hatred is restricted on the next
page (lines 8^.) so as to exclude the inanimate and the
irresponsible from its objects. On p. 72 (lines 2O/.) we had
yet another account, from a different point of view. In
Ethics, III. (xiii. Schol., also Def. vii. at the end of the Book)
Hatred is defined even more widely than here, namely, as
"sorrow with the accompanying idea of its external cause" ;
while in IV. xlv. Schol. it is restricted again so as to
exclude all but human beings from its objects.

83, i6ff. Here things which are the "accidental" causes
of injury are excluded from among the objects of " aver
sion"; in Ethics, III. Def. ix. of the Affects, aversion is
defined as "sorrow with the accompanying idea of some
object as the accidental cause of the sorrow."

83, 20^. Here "sorrow" is described as an effect of
hatred, &c. ; in the above definitions (from the Ethics)

COMMENTARY 211

hatred and aversion are described as species of sorrow.
We thus seem to have here an identification of causa
proxima with genus proximum. Cf. p. 199.

83, 21. Anger is accordingly denned in Ethics, III.
Def. xxxvi., as "the desire by which we are impelled,
through hatred, to injure those whom we hate."

83, 24. Envy is defined in Ethics, III. Def. xxiii., as
" hatred in so far as it affects a man so that he is sad at
the good fortune of another person, and is glad when some
evil befalls him."

84, 5/. Cf. Ethics, IV. xviii. Schol. (" Homini igitur nihil
homine utilius"), xxxv. Corol. i., and xxxvii.

84, i6ff. Cf. Ethics. IV. xlv.

CHAPTER VII

85. "Joy and Sorrow" are used in a very wide sense,
almost as the equivalents of " Pleasure and Pain." They
play a more important role in the Ethics than they do here.

85, 8. " The same causes" that is, the idea that a certain
thing is good.

85, 12 /. The definition here given of Sorrow is the same
as that of Grief, on p. 99, lines 5 /. In the Ethics (III.
Def. iii. of the Affects) Sorrow (Tristitia) is defined as " man s
transition from greater to lesser perfection." Descartes
had defined it as the effect of a present evil.

85, 17 ff. Cf. Ethics, IV. xli., where Spinoza says that
Joy is in itself good, and Sorrow evil, because Joy increases
the body s power of action, while Sorrow diminishes it.

86, 2 /. Cf. Tract, de Int. Em. (p. 5), where Spinoza says
that strife, hatred, sorrow, jealousy, and other evil passions
arise from the love of the transient only, " but love for an
object eternal and infinite feeds the mind with unmixed joy."
Cf. Ethics, V. xx.

86, 7. Reminiscent of Psalm xvi. n :

In thy presence is fulness of joy,

In thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.

212 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

CHAPTER VIII

87,7-9. In the Ethics (III. Def. Aff. xxi. xxii.) Existi-
matio and Despectus are conceived so as to contain an
element of bias. Existimatio (over-esteem) " consists in think
ing too highly of some one in consequence of our love for
him ; Despectus " consists in thinking too little of some one
in consequence of our hatred against him."

87, 10. " Self-respect." The Dutch is Edelmoedigheid,
which generally means "noble bearing" or " generosity."
Generositas, however, is defined in Ethics, III. lix. Schol., as
" the desire by which from the dictates of reason alone each
person endeavours to help other people and to join them to
himself in friendship." This is very unlike what is described
here.

87, 18. "Conceit" (Verwaantheid) = Superbia (Ethics, III.
Aff. Def. xxviii.), " undue self-esteem prompted by self-
love."

87, 20. " Culpable humility " (strafbare nedrigheid) =
? Abjectio, which is defined in Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xxix., as
" thinking too little of oneself, through sorrow."

88, 6 ff. In the Ethics (IV. liii.) Spinoza says that
" Humility is not a virtue," because the rational man should
think of what he can do, not of what he cannot do. More
over, Humility is a species of sorrow, and sorrow is always
bad. Apparently the good side of " true humility " has
been joined to " self-respect " to constitute acquiescentia in
se ipso, the contentment resulting from a just estimate of
one s powers.

88, 32. Scepticism had a certain vogue in the time of
Spinoza, and rationalist philosophies were often confounded
with it. Hence philosophers like Bacon, Descartes, and
Spinoza felt it necessary to break a lance with Scepticism so
as to make it clear that they were no Sceptics. In the Tract,
delnt. Em. (p. 14) Spinoza remarks of the Sceptics : "They

COMMENTARY 213

say that they know nothing ; and they say that even this,
namely, that they know nothing, they also do not know ;
nor can they say even that much absolutely : for they are
afraid to admit that they exist, seeing that they know
nothing ; they should really be dumb, lest perchance they
suggest something that may savour of truth. . . . They
must consequently be regarded as automata, altogether
devoid of mind." Further on (p. 24) he dismisses such
Scepticism as " belonging to an inquiry on obstinacy " rather
than to an inquiry on Method.

89. 10 /. Namely, that God is the highest and worthiest
object of our esteem, as of our love (p. 81, line 13 ff.).

CHAPTER IX

90, 12 ff. The way in which Spinoza here divides the
passions appears to be original.

90, 27. In Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xii., Hope is defined as
ft an inconstant joy arising from the idea of something future
or past about the issue of which we have some doubt." Cf.
also Ethics, III. xviii. Schol. 2.

91, 2. Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xiii. : " Fear [metus, nottimor] is
a wavering sorrow arising from the idea of something future
or past about the issue of which we have some doubt." Cf.
III. xviii. Schol. 2.

91, 3 ff. Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xiv. : "Confidence is joy
arising from the idea of something future or past concern
ing which all cause for doubt has been removed."

91, 8/. Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xv. : " Despair is sorrow
arising from the idea of something future or past concerning
which all cause for doubt has been removed."

91, 23 ff. "Vacillation of mind " is treated from a different
point of view in the Ethics (III. xvii. Schol., xxxi.), where
it is described as the result of loving and hating the same
thing at once, or (Aff. Def. xlii.) from a choice of evils.

214 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

91, 27 ff. Ethics, III. li. Schol. : " I will call that man brave
(intrepidum) who despises an evil which I usually fear."
Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xl. : " Boldness (Audacia) is a desire
by which one is incited to do something perilous which his
fellows fear to attempt." The Dutch terms are moed
(line 27), kloekmoedigheid (line 28), and dapper heid (line 29).

91, 30 ff. Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xxxiii.: " Emulation consists
in feeling a desire for something because we imagine that
others have the same desire."

91,33 ff. Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xli. : " Pusillanimity [or
Cowardice] is attributed to one whose desire [to do some
thing] is checked by the fear (timor) of a danger which his
fellows are not afraid to face."

92, i. Ethics, III. li. Schol. ; " The man who fears an evil
which I usually despise will appear timid " (timidus).

92, 2. "Jalousie" is given in the MSS. as the (French)
equivalent for "Belgzucht"\ apparently the translator was
not sure how to translate zelotypia. According to Ethics, III.
xxxv. Schol., Jealousy is "a vacillation of mind arising from
a feeling of both love and hatred [for a certain object],
accompanied by the idea of another person who is hated
[because he has supplanted us]."

92, 8ff. On Hope, Fear, and their effects, see Ethics, IV.
xlvii. Ixiii. ; on Confidence and Despair, Ethics, III. Aff.
Def. xv.

93, 10. " Boldness." The Dutch is " Stoutheid."

CHAPTER X

94, 5 ff. Remorse (Knaging) is conceived somewhat dif
ferently in the Ethics (III. Aff. Def. xvii.), where it (Con-
scientice morsus) is defined as " sorrow accompanied by the
idea of something past which happened unexpectedly "
(? contrary to expectations). This is Disappointment rather
than Remorse. Verrassing (rashness, line 5) usually means
surprise.

COMMENTARY 215

94, 7 /. Repentance (Berouw). In Ethics, III. Aff. Def.
xxvii., Pcenitentia is defined as " sorrow accompanied by the
idea of something done, which we believe that we did by a
free decision of the mind."

94, i&ff. The definitions of "Remorse" and " Repent
ance " given here (in the Short Treatise) are the same as
those given by Descartes (De Pass. An. III. 177, 191). But
Spinoza s estimate of them is altogether opposed to that of
Descartes, who considers remorse " useful " as tending to
make people more cautious in future, and repentance as
"most useful" because leading to an improvement in
conduct. In Ethics, IV. liv. Schol., Spinoza makes a note
worthy concession. " If men impotent in mind . . . were
ashamed of nothing, and feared nothing, how could they be
united or restrained ? The mob inspires fear when it feels
none. No wonder, therefore, that the Prophets, who were
concerned about the welfare, not of the few, but of the com
munity, commended Humility, Repentance, and Reverence
so greatly. And indeed those who are subject to these
feelings can be led much more easily than others, so as to
live eventually by the guidance of Reason, that is, to be free,
and live the life of the blessed."

CHAPTER XI

95. Cf. Ethics, III. Hi. Schol. : "Derision (Irrisio) springs
from our contempt for a thing which we hate or fear, Scorn
(Dedignatio), from the contempt of folly."

95, 5 ff. Cf. Ethics, IV. 1. Schol. : " He who knows rightly
that all things follow from the necessity of the divine nature,
and come to pass according to the eternal laws and rules
of Nature, will forsooth find nothing deserving of Hatred,
Laughter, or Contempt." (Cf. George Eliot: "To under
stand everything would be to pardon everything.")

95, 15. This was probably directed against the view of

216 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

Descartes (De Pass. An. III. 180) that a judicious use of
derision might diminish vice by making it appear ridiculous.

95, 18 /. Cf. Ethics, IV. liii. Schol. : " I see a great difference
between Derision (which ... I stated to be bad) and
laughter. For laughter, and jesting (jocus) likewise, is sheer
Joy ; and is therefore good in itself, provided it be not
excessive. Nothing, surely, but a gloomy and sad super
stition forbids enjoyment."

95, 22. " Spirits." The allusion is to the spiritus animates,
the vital or animal spirits. The doctrine of spiritus animates
is found already in the writings of the ancient Stoics and
the medieval Scholastics, but was developed more fully by
Descartes. Harvey s discovery of the circulation of the
blood encouraged Descartes in the working out of his con
ception of the automatic character of animal organisms.
His dualism that is, his view that mind and body were
entirely different substances which could not directly in
fluence each other made it necessary for him to explain
all physiological processes by the principles of mechanics.
The human body was accordingly regarded by him as a
cleverly contrived machine, all the parts of which (heart,
lungs, brain, nerves, muscles, &c.) co-operated, or acted on
each other, through the mediation of the blood which circu
lated all over the body. Now in passing through the heart
the blood (it was said) becomes heated, its finest particles
thereupon separate from the coarser ones, and rise to the
brain, while the rest of the blood, which is too thick for the
arteries leading to the brain, circulates through the other
parts of the body. It was this very fine part of the blood,
which alone had access to the brain, that Descartes called
"spirits" (spiritus or esprits animaux = spiritus animates).
Moreover, he regarded the " pineal gland " in the brain to
be the " seat" of the Soul, and (deviating from the require
ments of his dualistic philosophy^ he maintained that the
soul could influence the body, not indeed by setting in

COMMENTARY 217

motion, but by directing the motion of the " vital spirits," in
the same way, say, as a horseman directs the movements of
his horse, which is not thereby carried by him, but actually
carries him.* Descartes endeavoured to minimise this in
fringement against his dualism by attenuating the material
aspect of his " spirits " as much as possible. In the Discourse
on Method, v., he says that " the animal spirits are like a very
subtle wind, or rather a very pure and vivid flame." They
play a very important role in his explanation of the passions.
Spinoza was opposed to this causal mingling of the mental
with the physical, which he criticised severely in his Ethics
(Preface to Part V.). And this same difference of attitude
constitutes a fundamental difference between Spinoza s and
Descartes account of the " passions."

95, 22 /. Because such laughter is only a physiological
process, not a mental process or feeling.

95,25. "Indignation is hatred towards those who have
injured others " (Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xx.), and " is necessarily
evil" (IV. li. SchoL).

CHAPTER XII

96. " Glory." The Dutch Eere generally means " honour,"
and this will do if understood in the sense of "feeling
honoured " ; but " honour " is too ambiguous to stand alone.
The definition given of it here agrees with that of Gloria in
Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xxx., and although " Glory " is not a very
satisfactory rendering, it has the merit of suggesting the
Latin original.

96, 20 ff. Spinoza opposes the view of Descartes (De Pass.
An. III. 206) that Glory and Shame tend to encourage virtue,
the one through fear, the other through hope. In the Ethics
(IV. Iviii.) Spinoza allows that " Glory [as distinguished from

* This view has been ascribed by L. Robinson (Archiv f. Gesch. d. Phil.
xix.), not to Descartes, but to the Cartesian Regius. The illustration is,
of course, inaccurate, if pressed closely.

2i8 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

"vainglory"] is not opposed to reason, and may even spring
from it " ; and (IV. Appendix, xxiii.) that " Shame also helps
towards concord, though only as regards such things as
cannot be concealed."

97, ii ff. When Descartes refers to the good side of Glory
and Shame he means " good for the person who has these
feelings." Spinoza here makes a very different suggestion,
namely, how such a person may thus be enabled to do
good to others, who might otherwise not come under his
influence.

It is interesting to compare Spinoza s "philosophy of
clothes" with what his biographers relate of him. Lucas
(the earliest biographer of Spinoza) says that Spinoza him
self was always careful to be dressed neatly when he went
out, and strongly condemned deliberate negligence, saying,
" It is not a dirty and negligent appearance that makes one
learned." Colerus, on the other hand, relates that Spinoza
was dressed no better than one of the meanest citizens ; that
a certain eminent Councillor of State while visiting Spinoza
one day found him in a slovenly morning-gown, and when
blamed for it Spinoza replied that " a man is not made better
by having a finer gown," and that " it is unreasonable to
wrap up things of little or no value in a precious cover "
(see Pollock s Spinoza, 2nd ed. p. 394). The two accounts
are not necessarily incompatible.

CHAPTER XIII

98. Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xix. : "Favour is love towards
one who has done good to another"; xxxiv. : "Gratitude
(Gratia or Gratitudo) is the desire or endeavour of love with
which we try to do good to one who from a similar feeling
of love has conferred some benefit on us."

Spinoza here opposes the view of Descartes, who (De Pass.
An. III. 194) considered gratitude "always virtuous as one

COMMENTARY 219

of the chief bonds of human society." In the Ethics (IV. li.)
Spinoza says that " Favour is not opposed to reason, but
may agree with it, and arise from it" ; and (IV. Ixxi.) that
" only those who are free are most grateful to one another."

CHAPTER XIV

99. Ethics, III. Aff. Def. xxxii. : " Grief (Desiderium) is the
desire or longing to possess something, which [desire] is
fostered by the memory of the thing, and at the same time
restrained by the memory of other things which exclude the
existence of the thing longed for."

99, 15 ff. This was most probably meant to be a new
chapter, dealing with the feelings generally from Spinoza s
own peculiar point of view.

99, 16. Note the equivalence of "True Belief" and
" Reason." Cf. p. 74, note.

99, i8/. Spinoza here repeats his protest against the Car
tesian view that the passions are determined by the move
ments of the " vital spirits." Cf. p. 69, line 26 /.

99, 20 ff. This is also in opposition to Descartes, who
denied that the soul had any direct control over the passions
(De Pass. An. I. 45). Cf. Ethics, V. xx. Schol. : " The power
of the mind is determined solely by knowledge, while its
impotence or passion is measured solely by the privation
of knowledge " ; and the knowledge of God (Spinoza adds)
enables us to reduce the passions to a minimum, if not to
destroy them.

100, 5/. According to Descartes (ibid. III. 211), "all pas
sions are by nature good"; it is only their abuse that is
bad.

100, ii ff. Cf. Tract, de Intel Emend, (p. 5) : " All happiness
or unhappiness depends on this alone, namely, on the kind
of object to which we are attached by love. For on account
of that which is not loved no strife will ever arise, there will

220 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

be no sorrow if it perishes, no jealousy if it is possessed by
another, no fear, no hatred, and, in a word, no mental com
motion ; all which arise, indeed, when we love what is
perishable. . . . But love for an object eternal and infinite
feeds the mind with unmixed joy."

100, 29 ff. Cf. Ethics, V. xx. Schol. : " Love towards an
object immutable and eternal " " can always become greater
and greater, and occupy the greatest part of the mind, and
affect it through and through."

CHAPTER XV

102, 6 ff. Truth and Falsity are similarly defined in Cog.
Metaph. I. vi., and in Ethics, I. Ax. 6. In the Tract, de Intel.
Emend, (p. 1 1 /.), however, a different view of Truth appears,
in which no reference is made to "agreement " or " corre
spondence " with things. To have a true idea is to have
objective the essentia formalis of the thing thought about
(the ideatum). This view is developed also in Ethics, II.
xxxiv., &c., where "true" ideas are identified with "ade
quate " ideas, " false " ideas with " inadequate " ones. Cf.
Ethics, II. xliii.

102, 10 ff. Cf. Descartes, Med. III. (Veitch, p. 118) : "With
respect to ideas, if these are considered only in themselves,
and are not referred to any object beyond them, they cannot,
properly speaking, be false ; for, whether I imagine a goat
or a chimera, it is not less true that I imagine the one than
the other."

102, 15. Descartes (Princ. Phil. I. Ix.-lxii. Veitch, pp.
219 ff.) speaks of three kinds of Distinctions, namely, real,
modal, and logical. A real distinction is that between two
substances ; a modal distinction is " that between the mode
properly so called and the substance of which it is a mode,
or that between two modes of the same substance"; while
a logical distinction, or a distinction of reason f "is that

COMMENTARY 221

between a substance and some one of its attributes ... or
between two such attributes of a common substance, the
one of which we essay to think without the other " " for
example, duration is distinct from substance only in thought
(ratione), because a substance which ceases to endure ceases
also to exist." Similarly Spinoza see p. 237.

102, 20 /. This question, it may be noted at once, is not
answered in this chapter, but in the next (p. no, lines 1-5).
Most probably the passage containing the answer was
intended to come at the end of this chapter.

102, 23 /. Cf. Ethics, II. xliii. Schol. : " Just as light reveals
both itself and the darkness, so truth is the standard of itself
and of the false " (sicut lux seipsam et tenebras manifestat, sic
veritas norma sui et falsi est). Compare also Tr. de Intel.
Em. (p. n) : "To be sure of a truth no sign is necessary,
only just the possession of the true idea : for, as we have
shown, in order that I may know, it is not necessary for me
to know that I know."

103, 12 ff. The same thought recurs in the Tr. de Intel.
Em. (p. 15), where it is even more evident that Spinoza is
thinking of Descartes, who (Med. III. Veitch, p. 99) made
the occurrence of dreams a ground for his preliminary
scepticism.

103, 16. See the note to 78, 15 (p. 210).

103, 18-21. The falsity of an idea, according to Spinoza, is
not due to any positive element, but to the " inadequacy "
or fragmentariness of the idea; the true or "adequate"
idea is therefore richer, or has more essence, than the false
one.

103, 23. The word verstaan, or the verb intettigere, is
active, not passive.

103, 24. The expression " passivity " must not be taken too
literally here. The explanation which follows immediately
seems to suggest that what Spinoza meant was simply that
the sequence of our ideas is not due to any arbitrary volition

222 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

on our part, but is necessary. It is true that the sentence
beginning line 26 appears to suggest a kind of sensationalist
view, namely, that the things outside us produce the ideas in
us ; and there are similar passages in chapters xvi. and xix.
(see p. 109, lines 2 ff., and p. 123, lines 29 /.). On the other
hand, the explanation of error in chapter xvi. (p. 1 10, lines i ff.)
shows a very different view of human knowledge, a view
more like that explained in the Ethics, where he insists on the
spontaneity of ideation, in opposition to the view that ideas
are " dumb pictures on a tablet " (II. xlix. Schol.). Possibly
Spinoza may have been thinking of the immanent necessity
in the sequence of our ideas or judgments. And in the
case of immanent causality the usual distinction between
activity and passivity disappears. See what he actually says
on p. 30, lines 8-14. It is, of course, quite easy to suppose
that Spinoza s theory of knowledge went through a com
plete change that he began by conceiving knowledge to
be merely passive, and ended by regarding it as eminently
active. But the easier interpretation is not always the more
accurate one. What Spinoza really intended to oppose was,
I think, the Cartesian conception of judgment as an arbi
trary act of volition (Med. IV.). On p. 109, lines 6 ff., Spinoza
seems to be dealing expressly with this view of Descartes.
(For a discussion of this problem see Trendelenburg,
Freudenthal s Spinozastudien, and Gebhardt.)

104, i ff. The sentence in brackets presents some difficulty.
The Dutch is " (ah door weinige of minder toevoeginge in
[B : toevoegingen van dien~\ t zelve gewaar wordende)." The
word "toevoeginge" seems hardly appropriate in any case.
Sigwart translates it " Affectionen," Schaarschmidt " An-
regungen." This is quite plausible, inasmuch as "toevoe-
gen " is used for " addressing some one," and it may
accordingly be rendered by "stimuli." This translation,
however, makes the word in in A wrong, while the sentence
in brackets is a mere repetition of what precedes. But as

COMMENTARY 223

" toevoegen " literally means " to add," it seems quite pos
sible that " toevoeginge " may have been a rather clumsy
translation of attributa or accidentia in the wider sense of
" qualities." If so, the passage can be rendered thus : "(as
becoming aware of it only through a few or the less im
portant of the attributes in it [or "of its attributes"])."
Dr. W. Meyer has paraphrased this passage in the same
way, taking toevoeging as = toeeigening, or attribute.

CHAPTER XVI

105. According to Freudenthal this chapter is misplaced.
The substance of one part of it namely, p. 109, line 21, to
p. 1 10, line 8 should have been given at the end of chapter xv.,
ascontainingthe answer to thequestion raised on p. 102, lines
20 /. But the rest of the present chapter, and also chapters
xvii. and xviii., should follow chapter xx. For chapter xix.
deals with the question " wherein the well-being of a perfect
man consists," and chapter xvi. (p. 105, line 4) assumes that
the question has already been dealt with. Per contra, chapter
xix. seems to assume an immediately preceding discussion
on the advantages of " true belief," and such a discussion is
found in chapter xv. As chapters xix. and xx. obviously go
together, they should both follow chapter xv. ; and be
followed by chapters xvi.-xviii. So rearranged, the con
nection of ideas would be as follows : the discussion of
truth and falsity (or, briefly, of knowledge) serves as an
introduction to chapters xix. and xx., where it is shown that
knowledge is the cause of the passions, but that these may
be mastered by a knowledge of God. This raises the ques
tion discussed in chapters xvi. and xvii., namely, whether such
a self-emancipation from the passions is the effect of volun
tary effort, or the necessary result of inevitable causes. And
chapter xviii. (which, according to Freudenthal, originally
concluded the whole Treatise)rounds off the whole discussion

224 GOD > MAN AND HIS WELL-BEING

with a consideration of the moral value of the highest
knowledge.

105, 10. Desire : see p. 73, lines 4 ff. In Ethics, III. ix.
Schol., Desire is defined as "appetitus cum ejusdem con-
scientia," and appetitus as " ipsa hominis essentia, e% cujus
natura ea, qucz ipsius conservationi inserviunt, necessario
sequuntur" ; in short (III. Aff. Def. i.), Desire denotes "all
the strivings, impulses, appetites, and volitions of man."

107, iff. Cf. Ethics, II. xlviii. and xlix.

108, i. "Idea" that is, a general idea or abstraction
derived from particular acts of volition.

108, 7. " This " = " that it is unnecessary to ask whether
the will is free." The opening of this paragraph in A is
somewhat obscure. B is much clearer (see lines 32 ff.).

108, i6ff. This was a common doctrine among medieval
philosophers ; it is found in the writings of Thomas Aquinas,
Peter Lombard, and others. Scaliger, e.g., says : " Conservatio
est qucedam veluti perpetua generatio" (Exerc. 31, quoted by
Freudenthal in Sp. u. d. Schol.). The same thought is also
found in Crescas. Cf. Descartes, Med. III.

109, 6 ff. Spinoza is probably referring here to the
Cartesian view that to have an idea is one thing, to make
an affirmation or denial about it is another and depends on
our free will. Spinoza identifies volition with affirmation
and denial, but denies that it is free. The ideas necessitate
certain affirmations or denials. Thinking is thus identified
with judging. Cf. Ethics, II. xlix. Schol.

109, 16. " Feel "= ? sentimus, apprehend.
109, 21 ff. See note to p. 102, line 20 (p. 221).

CHAPTER XVII

^. Spinoza s reference to the Aristotelian distinc
tion between /SoJArjo-/? (voluntas), and tTriOvjULia (voluptas)

COMMENTARY 225

is most probably based on Scholastic accounts. In DC
Anima, III. ix., Aristotle distinguishes within the conative
faculty (TO 6/o/cn/coV= Spinoza s cupiditas, line 12) rational
desire ({3ov\r)cri$) from irrational desire (tTriOvjuLia), and
this distinction recurs also in III. x. and in the Rhetoric,
I. x.

112, 19 ff. Spinoza s attitude towards the Aristotelian view
is not expressed clearly. Since Spinoza identifies volition
with affirmation and negation and Aristotle with desire,
they really mean different things, although they use the
same term (will). This seems to be the meaning of the
sentence in question.

CHAPTER XVIII

115, 10 ff. Cf. Ethics, II. xlix. Schol.
Trendelenburg has pointed out that in Plato s Euthyphron

man is similarly described as the slave of God. There is a
vast difference, however. In Plato s dialogue it is only
" the ministration called holiness " (that is, sacrificing and
praying to the Gods, as distinguished from Justice, which is
service to men) that is described as " of the same nature as
that which slaves render to their master." Spinoza is not
thinking at all of such restricted " divine service," but of the
whole life and conduct of man.

116, 26 ff. Probably an allusion to i John, iv. 13 : " Hereby
know we that we dwell in Him, and He in us, because He hath
given us of His spirit." This verse was subsequently put
by Spinoza on the title-page of his Tractatus Theologico-
Politicus.

117, i ff- Cf. Burgersdijck (Inst. Log. cap. xvii.) : " Instru-
mentarum essentia posita est in aptitudine ad usum. . . .
Sic securis eatenus securis est, quatenus materice qualitate et
forma apta est adsecandum."

226 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

117, 12 ff. Cf. Browning s Last Ride Together; or Tenny
son s Wages:

" Glory of Virtue, to fight, to struggle, to right the wrong-
Nay, but she aimed not at glory, no lover of glory

she:
Give her the glory of going on, and still to be.

She desires no isles of the blest, no quiet seats of the

just,
To rest in a golden grove, or to bask in a summer

sky :
Give her the wages of going on, and not to die."

CHAPTER XIX

118. According to Freudenthal this chapter, and the
next, should have been placed immediately after chapter xv.
See the first note to chapter xvi. (p. 223).

118, 26 /. Allusion to Romans iii. 20^. : " By the works
of the law shall no man be justified in His sight : for through
the law cometh the knowledge of sin. But now apart from the
law a righteousness of God hath been manifested . . . even the
righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ unto all
them that believe; . . . being justified freely by His grace
through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." See Intro
duction, p. cxxvi.

118, 30 /. " Know and enjoy." Probably a reminiscence
of Biblical language, as in Psalm xxxiv. 8 : "0 taste and see
that the Lord is good."

119, 18$. It was on account of Descartes initial scep
ticism that Spinoza felt it necessary to prove the existence of
material bodies. " A body " = Extension, or Matter.

119, 27^. This paragraph appears, at first sight, to be
directed against Occasionalism the view, namely, that our
perception of a body is produced in our mind by the direct

COMMENTARY 227

action of God on the " occasion " of the presence of such a
body. But there is no other evidence of Spinoza s acquaint
ance with Occasionalism. It maybe that Spinoza was only
thinking of the " omnipotent demon " who, as Descartes
suggested (Med. I)., might be deluding us with fancies of
apparently material bodies. The context, dealing as it
does with Descartes scepticism, seems to me to confirm
this.

119, 34. The reference to the " first chapter " seems to be in
accurate. The passage to which reference is made is supposed
to show that there is nothing outside God (and that, therefore,
no such demon can exist). This is done, not in the first
chapter, but in the first Dialogue (also in chapter ii. Book I.).

120, i ff. In various parts of the Short Treatise, but espe
cially in this chapter and the next, Spinoza deals with the
relation between mind and body. Only indirectly, how
ever, or incidentally for his main inquiry is ethical, not
psychological, in character. It is regrettable that he did
not discuss the problem for its own sake, because in that
case he would have expressed his views more clearly and
consistently than he has done in these incidental discussions
which originated on different occasions, and had different
aims. As it is, we seem to have here several different views
on the relation between mind and body. And as we have
no independent knowledge of the chronological orders, or
of the geological formation (so to say) of the parts of the
Treatise, it is impossible to speak with absolute confidence
of the actual order or sequence among these views. It
seems reasonable, however, to suppose that their logical
order is also more or less representative of their chrono
logical sequence. His final view, we take it, was what has
since become familiar as that of psycho-physical parallelism.
This view is the one adopted in the Ethics, though with
occasional lapses. The other views may be regarded as
leading up to this one.

228 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

Now, in the first place, do body and mind interact ? In
some passages the view expressed or implied is that they do.
Body acts on mind (p. 103, lines 26 ff. ; 112, 26 ; 119, 7 ff. ;
122, 26 ff. ; 129, I5/., &c.); and mind acts on body, or, at
all events, the soul can move its own body (129, 6 /.), and
through it also other bodies (130, 12 ff.). In other passages,
however, this view, apparently, of direct interaction is con
siderably modified, if not denied. The mind, we are told,
cannot affect even its own body, except through the media
tion of the " vital spirits," whose movements it cannot ini
tiate or terminate, but only control or direct (121, 2 ff., 28 ff. ;
127, 10 ff.) ; nor can body act directly on mind without
the intervention of " vital spirits" (122, 4 #.) And this,
of course, is the Cartesian view (see note to 95, 22 p. 216).

Spinoza, however, was not satisfied with this solution.
After all, the " vital spirits " were physical, and one might
just as well suppose that mind can interact with body as with
them. We find, accordingly, a new solution of the problem.
Mind and body can affect each other, because they are mere
modes of one and the same whole, or substance (127, 34^. ;
121, 9 ff.). This answer may have suggested yet another
point of view from which the problem itself disappeared.

So far the reality of interaction of some sort was assumed,
the problem being to explain it. And Spinoza tried to do
so, first by invoking " spirits," and then by his conception
of a " whole," in which mind and body were most intimately
united. The ultimate " whole," according to Spinoza, is
Substance, of which Extension and Thought are co-attri
butes. These stand in no causal relationship to each other;
they are, so to say, collateral expressions of the same reality;
the one does not cause the other, but simply is the other
that is, another or parallel aspect of the same reality.
Similarly, mind and body are really one whole, merely a
double-faced mode of substance ; mind does not affect
body, nor body mind ; the one simply is the other that is,

COMMENTARY 229

a parallel aspect of the same reality. So there is really
no interaction and no problem. This view is expressed,
though not adequately, in the passage now under con
sideration (pp. 120, 121 ; cf. Ethics, II. vii. and III. ii.).

The theory of psycho-physical parallelism, first enunciated
by Spinoza, did not receive the attention which it merited
until some two centuries afterwards, but has held its ground
since then as the favourite working-hypothesis among
psychologists. (For a fuller account see Freudenthal,
Ueber die Entwicklung der Lehre vom psychophysischen Paral-
lelismus bei Spinoza.)

120, 4. " Power "cf. the note to 34, 16 (p. 187).

120, 12 ff. Cf. Ethics, II. xiii.

120, 21 ff. Cf. Ethics, II. Lemma iii., and III. ii.

120, 22. "Rest" (fipwia) was regarded by Aristotle (De
Ccelo, II.), not as the mere absence of motion, but as its
positive contrary; that is to say (in more modern language),
not as the mere absence of energy of motion, but as the
presence of energy of position. This positive conception
of "rest" is also found in Descartes Principia, II.; in
Med.j III., however, Descartes speaks as though " rest " were
the mere absence of motion, as darkness is of light. Note t
(p. 120) may have been directed against this suggestion.

121, 12 ff. Cf. p. 69, lines 26$., and p. 158, lines 2 ff.
121, 23. See p. 78, lines 20 ff.

124,3. " Object " = object of thought. The sentence is
awkwardly expressed, but the meaning is clear.

CHAPTER XX

126, 18. "Their form . . ." The Dutch is haar, which
generally means " their," but is used by Spinoza also for
the singular. If translated by " its," the reference would
be to the body. But cf. p. 127, line 5.

127, 21 ff. Similarly Descartes, Princ. Phil. IV. cxc.

230 GOD ; MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

127, 34^. This long note, as Sigwart has shown, contains
various suggestions which Spinoza subsequently elaborated
in the Ethics (II. xi.-xxxii.).

128, 6-9. " We have also said . . ." Not in this Treatise
as we now have it. The part referred to must have been
lost.

128, 12-17. " P a S e " The numbers of the pages
referred to are not given in the MS. Nor is it easy
to find suitable passages for most of them. The third
proposition is not proved in this Treatise at all. The
references are probably either to lost parts, or to parts
which Spinoza intended to write, but did not.

128, 25 /. "Has an idea" that is, an adequate idea, as
explained immediately afterwards.

129, 9 /. " Paul " and " Peter " should probably change
places.

129, 20 ff. This sentence seems irrelevant. Perhaps the
difference in our ideas of the same object was intended
as a proof of their imperfection, of which the preceding
sentence speaks.

129, 33. The words idea reflexiva seem to be quite irre
levant here, and the version which they suggested to
Monnikhoff is wrong. Sigwart has suggested that the error
may be due to the fact that on p. 162, lines I3/., Spinoza
passes at once from the explanation of " feeling " to the idea
reflexiva (self-consciousness), and this transition may have
been misunderstood by the copyist, or by a reader.

130, 3. "Soul" = the soul of Nature* .*., the infinite
Idea. See p. 134.

CHAPTER XXI

131, According to Freudenthal, this and the following
five chapters are later additions to the Short Treatise, which
originally concluded with what is now chapter xviii. See
the first note to chapter xvi. (p. 223). The addition of these

COMMENTARY 231

last six chaplers ; Freudenthal thinks, was necessitated by
Spinoza s (later) distinction between Reason and Under
standing (or Intuition, which is the highest kind of
knowledge).

The views found in the present chapter are developed
much more fully in Ethics, IV. ix.-xvii.

131, 4^. In Ethics, IV.xvii. SchoL, Spinoza quotes Ovid s
well-known utterance (Metam. vii. 20),

Video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor,

and takes Ecclesiastes, i. 18 (" He that increaseth knowledge
increaseth sorrow ") to refer to such cases.

131, 31. What does " for, &c.," refer to ? Possibly to the
next sentence in the text (p. 132, lines 2 ff.). So, at all
events, Monnikhoff seems to have understood it, for instead
of " See pages . . .," B has " See above." But the passages
referred to by A are not irrelevant to the note as a whole,
and were most probably not meant to refer only to the
last sentence of the note.

CHAPTER XXII

133. The " fourth kind of knowledge "see pp. 67-69, and
the notes on them. Sigvvart cites several passages from
Heereboord s Logic which appear at first to express a view
very like Spinoza s on knowledge as a bond of union between
man and God. There is, however, a fundamental diffe
rence between the two views. The knowledge to which
Heereboord refers is discursive knowledge, or what Spinoza
calls " Reason," while Spinoza refers to " intuitive " know
ledge, which is almost mystical in character. The view
of Heereboord, it may be remarked, is already found in
Maimonides and other medieval Aristotelians.

134, 7/. "That same thing" = Nature (line 6) or God
(see line 10), or possibly the " thinking thing " i.e., the

232 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

attribute Thought (see lines 157. and p. 64, lines 20 /.). The
meaning is ultimately the same in any case. It may be
that the sentence is imperfect, and (as suggested by Dr. W.
Meyer) the following words should be inserted after " in "
(line 7) : " the thinking thing, which idea is . . ."

134, 18. The expression "cause" is not quite accurate
here. What is meant (as the context shows) is that, corre
sponding to that mode in the Attribute Extension called our
body, there is a mode in the Attribute Thought called our
soul ; but it is not the body that " produces " the soul (the
Attribute Thought does that), it is only in a certain sense
the " occasion" of its existence. Note ft was obviously
intended to correct the false suggestion of the word " cause."
Possibly the note was made, not by Spinoza, but by some
reader.

CHAPTER XXIII

136. Cf. p. 65, lines 31 ff. ; also Ethics, V. xxi.-xxiii.,
xxxiii. /., xxxviii. /. (In the Cogitata Metaphysica, II. xii.,
the soul is said to be immortal because it is a substance,
and a substance cannot destroy itself, nor be destroyed
by any other created substance. But this reasoning
was obviously not intended to represent Spinoza s own
views.)

Joel has rightly drawn attention to a certain similarity
in the views of Spinoza and Maimonides on Immortality.
According to both Maimonides and Spinoza, Immortality
(in the higher sense) is not something which is the com
mon right of all, independently of the lives they actually
live, but rather a gift that has to be acquired by leading a
life not only of moral uprightness, but also of strenuous
effort after the highest kind of knowledge. Very similar to
their view on Immortality is also their view on Providence.
(See the note to 140, 21 ff.).

COMMENTARY 233

CHAPTER XXIV

138, 8. " What there is . . ." The Dutch is wot daar af
is en te zeggen zoude zijn [ B : wat daar af is, en van het zelfde
zou te zeggen zijn ]. The construction seems to be con
fused ; but the meaning is clear.

138, 13 ff. Cf. Ethics, V. xvii. (Deus expers est passionum,
nee ullo Lcetitice aut Tristitice affectu afficitur) and xix.
(Qui Deum amat, conari non potest, ut Deus ipsum contra
amet).

138, 27 ff. Cf. Ethics, V. xxxvi. and xl. Schol.: ". . . Our
mind, in so far as it understands, is an eternal mode of
Thought, which is determined by another mode of Thought,
and this again by another, et sic in infmitum ; so that all
taken together constitute the eternal and infinite intellect of
God."

139, 4ff. Cf. Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, chapters iv.,
xvi., and xix.

140, 21 ff. The following passage from Maimonides (Guide,
III. liv. p. 395) throws some light on this paragraph (and
also on parts of chapter xxiii.) : "Even this [moral per
fection] is only a preparation for another perfection, and is
not sought for its own sake. For all moral principles con
cern the relation of man to his neighbour. . . . Imagine
a person being all alone, and ... all his good moral
principles . . . are not required. . . . These principles are
only necessary and useful when man comes in contact with
others. The fourth kind of perfection is the true perfection
of man ; the possession of the highest intellectual faculties ;
the possession of . . . true metaphysical notions concerning
God. With this perfection man attains to his final end ;
... it gives him immortality ; and makes him what is
(properly) called Man."

141, 5^. Cf. Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, i. vi. xiii.

234 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

CHAPTER XXV

143. Cf. Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, ii.

As already stated in the Introduction, this chapter on Devils
played an important role in the recovery of the Short Treatise.
Kindness shown even to the devil is not wasted. Devils
and spirits of all sorts and conditions were very real things
in those days ; Spinoza s quiet humour is much in advance
of his time. In an earlier draft of the Treatise this chapter
may have had a different place, for it is referred to as
chapter xxi. by Hallmann.

143, 15 ff. In Ethics, II. xxx., Spinoza says, on the contrary,
that " the duration of our body does not depend upon its
essence . . . but . . . upon the common order of nature
and the constitution of things."

CHAPTER XXVI

144,8. B omits the words " through reason . . ."probably
because the copyist (Monnikhoff) noticed that it had not
been shown how "our blessedness" is attained " through
reason." See note to 128, 12-17 (p. 230).

144, 18 ff. Cf. Ethics, V. xlii.: " Blessedness is not virtue s
reward, but virtue itself. . . . The more a mind delights in
the love of God . . . the more does it understand, that is,
the greater power has it over its feelings, and the less does
it suffer from evil passions."

144, 22 ff. Cf. Ethics, V. xli.: " Even if we did not know
that our mind is eternal we should still hold Piety and
Religion to be of first importance. . . . The creed of the
multitude appears to be different. For most people seem to
believe that they are free only in so far as they are permitted
to indulge in lustfulness. . . . Piety and Religion . . . they
believe to be burdens. . . ." It is only the hope of reward
and the fear pf punishment after death that induce them to

COMMENTARY 235

submit to the divine law. If they believed that minds perish
with the body they would follow their own sweet will, and
obey chance desires rather than themselves. But "this
seems to be no less absurd than the conduct of a man who,
because he does not believe that he can feed his body with
good food to all eternity, decides to stuff himself with
poisonous and deadly drugs; or because he sees that the
mind is not eternal or immortal, therefore prefers to be mad
and live without reason."

145, 8 ff. The parable of the fish (as Joel has pointed out)
was probably suggested to Spinoza by the following Tal-
mudical legend (Babylonian Talmud, Berachot, 6ib quoted
by Joel). In the reign of Hadrian the Romans prohibited
the Jews to study the Law. Rabbi Akiba, however, persisted
in studying and teaching it. And when a certain Pappos
warned him of the danger that threatened him, he replied
with the following parable : A fox on the banks of a river
saw many fishes hurrying away from a certain spot. Asking
them why they fled, he was told that they were afraid of the
nets which had just been spread for them. " Come, then,"
suggested the fox, " come out, and let us live together on land,
even as our forefathers did." " What ! " exclaimed the
fishes, " if even in our own element we can only live in fear
and dread, what shall we do on land, which to us spells
death?" Even so, said Rabbi Akiba, is it with the Jews.
The Law is our element, for it is written, "It is thy life
and the length of thy days." If danger lurks in the study
of the Law, a yet greater danger lurks in the neglect
thereof.

145, 28 /. Cf. Hosea, xi. 4: "I drew them . . . with bands
of love"

In the Ethics, V. xxxvi. Schol., Spinoza says that human
Salvation, or Blessedness or Freedom, consists in " a constant
and eternal love towards God."

146, ii /. Cf. Ethics, V. xl. : " The more perfect a thing is

236 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

the more reality it possesses, and consequently acts more
and suffers less."

146, 16 ff. Cf. Ethics, I. xxviii. and III. iv.

146, 27 ff. Cf. p. 38, lines 12 /.

147, i ff. Cf. p. 36, lines 21 ff.

147, 5/. "Whole," however, is only an ens rationis, and
does not adequately express the actual relationship of God
to finite beings.

147, 9 ff. Cf. Ethics, V. xxxviii. xl. Here it is maintained
that the greater our union with God is, the greater is our
activity ; in the Ethics we see the converse of this, namely,
the more active we are (or the more we understand) the
more are we united with God.

147, i6ff. Cf. Ethics, V. xxix.-xxxi.

147, 31 ff. Cf. Ethics, IV. xxxii.-xxxvii.

148, 3 /. The Dutch is not very clear : hoe t zij, of niet
zij, ik ben gehouwen of geslaagen, dit s klaar.

148, 35 ff. This note is apparently just a marginal sum
mary.

149, 12 ff. Cf. Letter XV., and the Introduction, pp. cxxiv. ff.

APPENDICES

APPENDIX I

153. This gives a " geometric " version of the first half of
chapter ii. Part I. It is remarkable that no Definitions are
given, although they are really essential features of the
"geometric method." Spinoza, however, made good the
omission not only in the Ethics, but already in a brief essay
(very similar to this Appendix) which he sent to Oldenburg,
whose first letter to Spinoza and the latter s reply thereto
have already been referred to in the Introduction (pp. Ixiv. /.,
cxxiii.). In the course of his reply Spinoza remarks that

COMMENTARY 237

he thought it best to state his explanations also separately
in the geometric form, and that he was enclosing it for
Oldenburg s perusal and criticism. Unfortunately the
enclosed essay has been lost. The correspondence (Letters
1 1. -IV.), however, leaves little doubt about the contents of
that essay, which Sigwart has reconstructed as follows :

I. DEFINITIONES

1. Deum definio esse Ens constans infmitis attributis
quorum unumquodque est infmitum sive summe perjectum
in suo genere.

2. Per attributum intelligo omne id quod concipitur per se et
in se, adeo ut ipsius conceptus non involvat conceptum alterius
rei. Ut ex, gr. extensio per se et in se concipitur ; at motus
non item. Nam concipitur in alio, et ipsius conceptus involvit
extensionem.

3. Ea res dicitur in suo genere infmita, qua alia ejusdem
natura non terminatur. Sic corpus non terminatur cogitationc,
nee cogitatio cor pore.

4. Per substantiam intelligo id, quod per se et in se con
cipitur, hoc est cujus conceptus non involvit conceptum
alteriiis rei.

5. Per modificationem sive per accidens intelligo id, quod in
alio est et per id, in quo est, concipitur.

II. AXIOM ATA

1. Substantia est prior natura. suis accidentibus.

2. Prater substantias el accidentia nil datur realiter, sive
extra intellectum.

3. Res qua diversa habent attributa, nihil habent inter se
commune.

4. Rerum qua nihil habent inter se commune, una alterius
causa csse non pot est.

Q

238 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

III. PROPOSITIONES

1. In rerum natura non possunt existere duce substantia
ejusdem attributi.

2. Substantia non potest produci [neque ab alia quacumque
substantia] t sed de ipsius essentia est existere.

3. Omnis substantia debet esse infinita sive summe perfecta in
suo genere.

There was also a Scholium like Schol. 2 in Ethics, I. viii.,
but it is difficult to restore the text of it.

The first Appendix was probably a first draft of the above
essay (1661), in which Definitions were added, while the rest
was abridged.

153, 6/. In the Cogitata Metaphysica (II. v.) Spinoza
enumerates three kinds of " distinctions." Rerum distinctio
triplex, Realis, Modalis, Rationis. The explanations which
he adds are the same as those given by Descartes. See note
to 102, 15 (pp.220/.).

153, 19 /. Axiom 7 looks suspicious. It is really only a
repetition of Axiom i. Possibly it was only a reader s note
on Axiom i, but was incorporated in the text by an
uncritical copyist. The suspicion is confirmed by the fact
that no use is made of it in what follows.

APPENDIX II

157, 3 ff. Cf. pp. 63 /., 127 ff. note. Observe the omission
here of the argument that man is not a substance.

157, 14 ff. Cf. pp. 57, 128 /., 134, and Ethics, II. i.-iv.

On p. 24 (lines 31 ff.) it was maintained that whatever is
in the infinite understanding of God must actually exist ;
here (lines 18 ff.) we have the converse assertion, namely,
that whatever is real must have its idea in the attribute
Thought.

COMMENTARY 239

The subject of paragraph i is really continued on p. 159,
28-p. 160, 5, and Freudenthal held that these lines have
got misplaced somehow, as they would fit in very well if
placed immediately after p. 158, 2, while they are irrelevant
in their actual context.

157, 24^. In Ethics, II. vii. Schol., Spinoza says: "The
[so-called] thinking substance and the [so-called] extended
substance are really one and the same substance, which is
comprehended now under this, now under that attribute.
Similarly, a mode of extension and the idea of that mode are
one and the same thing, only" expressed in two ways ; a
truth which certain Hebrews appear to have seen as if
through a cloud, for they state, namely, that God, the
intellect of God, and the things which are apprehended by
that intellect are one and the same thing."

158, 4 ff. Cf. pp. 69 (lines 26 ff.), 121 ff.

158, 7 ff. Cf. p. 79 (lines 8 ff.), and Ethics, III. vi. /.

158, ii ff. Cf. pp. 127 ff. notes.

159, 6. Realiter is not quite accurate here ; it is used
in a wider sense or from a Cartesian point of view, accord
ing to which " things " and " souls " are substances, which
are therefore different realiter.

159, 9. " Essence" that is, of the soul.

159, 16 /. That is, he does not say " which exists as a
material (or extended) thing. 1

159, 24. "As regards their existence." Dutch, na haar
wezentlijkheyt. The Latin was most probably realiter.
Attributes do not differ realiter , because a distinctio realis is
only between different substances. The attributes, however,
though distinct, are not distinct substances, nor are they
supported by distinct substances ; they are their own
" subjects " or substrates (that is to say, they need no other
" subjects " for their support), and together they constitute
the one and only " Substance."

159, 28 ff. See note to 157, 14 ff. (top of this page).

Q2

240 GOD, MAN, AND HIS WELL-BEING

160, 20. " Which really exists in Nature." The stress laid
on this clause will only be understood after a careful reading
of the whole paragraph, omitting p. 159, 28-p. 160, 5. So
long as Extension and the other Attributes do not evolve
particular modes having duration in time (existence), so long
also there is only the Attribute Thought as an Attribute, and
there are no individual " Ideas " or "Souls." "Souls"
are only evolved out of the Attribute Thought in so far as
particular " modes " (bodies, &c.) of the other Attributes
come into existence.

160, 26 /. Spinoza generally distinguishes between the
attribute Thought and its infinite mode or Idea, Under
standing. B must be wrong here.

161, 6 ff. Cf. notes 7-14 on pp. 63 ff. These notes show
a further development of the ideas in the present paragraph,
and are most probably later additions.

162, 13 ff. The concluding sentences really contain a very
brief synopsis of the plan which Spinoza followed in the
second part of the Ethics, where (as Sigwart has pointed out)
propositions xi.-xix. are devoted to the consideration of the
idea corporis and idea affectionum corporis, xx.-xxiii. to
the idea idea ( = idea reflexiva), xxiv.-xxxi. to sense-
experience, xxxii.-xxxvi. to adequate and inadequate ideas,
xxxviii. ff. to reasoned knowledge, &c. The conclusion of
the Short Treatise thus directs our attention to the Ethics.

INDEX

ABRAHAMS, I., xx f

Accidental, 48 f, 90, 196
cause, 48 f

Act of Seclusion, Ixxvi

Activity, 146

Adam, 50, 76

Akiba, 235

Albertus Magnus, xxvii

Alexander Aphrodisiensis, 197

Alva, xiv

Amsterdam, first Jews in, xv

Anger, 83, 95, 143, 211

Aniellos, Thomas, xxix

" Animal spirits," see " Vital
spirits "

A posteriori proofs of God s exist
ence, i6ff, 55, 142, 167, 172

A priori proofs, 15, 20, 53, 55, 167

Aquinas, Thomas, 20, 56, 172, 198

Aristotle, xxvii, xxxii, 50, 70, 112,
168, 199, 224 f, 229

Armada, the, xv

Arminius, xli

Arnold, M., 1

Attribute, 21, 30 f, 37 ff, 52 f, 55,

153, 171, 174 f, 187, 199
and property, 19, 31, 46 ff, 52 f,
i8of

" Attribute or substance," 34, 52,

55

Augustine, 200
Avenarius, R., cxxv, cxxvii, 176,

3

Averroes, 200
Aversion, 82 ff, 210
Awe of God, 116

BACON, Ixiv f, 204, 212

Balling, 1, liii, cxvi, cxxiv

Baltzer, A., cxxvii

Barlaeus, C., xxvii

Barneveldt, xli, Ixxv

Belief, 67 ff, 74 ff, 99, 102, 105, 118,

205, 208
Believer, 68
Bell illustration, 1 1 3
Beuningen, van, Ixix ff
Berkeley, 169
Bible, allusions to the, 42, 141, 211,

225 f, 231, 235

Bible, Spinoza s translation of the,

Ixxxiv

Blyenbergh, Ixxii f
Body, 63 ff, 107, 121 ff, 133 ff,

227 ff, 234
Boehmer, E., cv f, cxxvii, 65, 181 f,

206

Bogaers, A., cvi
Boldness, 90 ff, 214
Bouwmeister, Ixviii
Boyle, R., Ixiii, Ixv, Ixxi, xc, xciii
Bravery, 91, 214
Browning, R., 226
Bruno, cxxvi, 167, 183, 187
Burgersdijck, xxxi, 179, 190 ff,

195, 225

Burnet, Bishop, Ixxxvii
Busse, L., cxxvii

Calculation of Chances, Essay on
the, Ixxxiv

Casearius, lii, Ixii, Ixvi

Casseres, S. de, xviii, xxiii, xxxviii

Causa per accidens, 42, 193
per se, 42, 193
sui, 20, 54 f, 114, 149, 153, 171 f

Cause, 1 06, 190 ff, 211

Change, 20

Charles II., Ixxi, Ixxvi, Ixxxv

Charles V., Emperor, xiii

Christ, xcix, 4, 200 f

Christians, 72 f

Christina, Queen of Sweden, xxvii

Clauberg, 188, 194

Clear knowledge, see Knowledge

Clothes, Spinoza on, 97, 218

Coccejus, Ixii

Cogitata Metaphysica, see Meta
physical Thoughts

Cold, 161

Coleridge, cii

Colerus, xxix, xxxi, Ixxxi, c, cv, 218

Collegiants, xxxvi, xli, Ivi, Ixii

Conatus, 47, 196

Conceit, 87 ff, 212

Conde, Prince, Ixxxvii f

Confidence, 90 ff, 213 f

Confusion in Nature, 50

Conscience, 84

Contempt, 87 ff, 96, 212, 215

241

242

INDEX

Cossack persecutions, xliii f
Costa, Uriel da, xxxiv, xlii f
Courage, 90 f, 93
Creation, xxxv, 23, 57, 108, 173,

224

Crescas, xxxv, 174, 196 f, 208 f
Cromwell, xxvii, Ixiii, Ixxvi
Culpable humility, 87 f, 212
Cupiditas, 112, 185, 225

DEFINITION, rules of, 52 ff, 65 f

Delmedigo, xxxiv

Depression, fits of, 122

Derision, 95, 215 f

Descartes, xxxv, xlix ff, Ivi f, Ixiv f,

Ixxv, xc, cxxvi, 55, 166 ff, 177 ff,

185, 195, 197, 199, 205 ff, 211 f,

215 ff, 226 ff
Desire, 32 ff, 69, 73, 85, 100, 105,

nof, 132, 185, 208, 224 f, 229
Despair, 90 ff, 116, 213 f
Deurhoff, W., cviii, cxv f
Devils, civ f, cxxvi, 116, 143 f, 234
Divine laws, 139
Divine revelation, 141
Divine service, 116 f
Division, 28 f
Dream, 103
Duff, R. A., cxxviii
Duns Scotus, xxvii, 169, 197
Duration as involving continuous
creation, 108, 224

EFFICIENT cause, 41, 191 ff

Eliot, George, 215

Elisha ben Abuyali, xlvii

Elizabeth, Queen, xv

" Emanative cause," 41, 191

" Eminent cause," 18, 170

Eminenter, 18, 119, 170

Emulation, 90 f, 93, 214

Enden, Clara van den, xxxix, li

Enden, F. van den, xxxi f , xxxix f, li,
Ixxxvi, cxxvi

Endgeest, Ivi

Ens rationis, 38, 59, 75 f, 106 f, 178,
209

Ens reale, 59, 76, 178, 209

Envy, 83, 95, 116, 143, 211

Episcopius, xxviii

Erasmus, 36 ff

Error, 102 f, 109 f

Essence, 37, 65 f, 83, 103 ff, 116,

128, 167

and attributes, 26
and existence, 15 ff, 128, 167 f
and perfection, 83, 116, 143

Esteem, 87 ff, 212

Eternal laws, 140

Eternity, 167

Ethics, Spinoza s, Ixvii f , Ixx ff , Ixxx,
Ixxxiii f, xcii ff, ciii ff, 172, 175 ff
184, 186 ff, 195 ff, 200 ff. 208 ff

Euripides, xxvii

Evil, liii, 51, 54, 59 f, 74 ff, 82

Ex nihilo nihil fit, 108

Experience, 67 f, 73, 204

" Extension," xxxv, 27 ff, 52, 57,
63 ff, 119 ff, 128 f, 153 ff, 173 ff,
178 f, 232

" Extraneous denomination," 31,
1 80

FALSITY, 102 ff, 109 f, 220 f

Favour, 98, 100, 218 f

Fear, 73, 90 ff, 213 f

Fear of God, 116

Felbinger, xxx

Ferdinand and Isabella, xii

Final causes, xxxv
end of things, 117

First cause, 42, 194

Fischer, Kuno, cxxviii

Fish, parable of the, 145, 235

" Formal," 157, 168

Formaliter eminenter, 18, 170

Formaliter objective, 16, 22 ff, 168

Free cause, 41, 46, 80, 193

Freedom, 44, 46, 144 ff, 235

Free will, 105 ff

Freudenthal, J., cxxii, cxxvi,
cxxviii, 166 f, 169, 176, 182 f,
185 f, 203, 222 ff, 226, 229 ff, 239

Friedlander, M., 168

GALILEO, xxxiv

Garden of Flowers, A, Ixxx

Gebhardt, C., cxxviii, 204

General ideas, 50, 59, 106 ff

General modes, 56 f, 78

Generation and creation, 23

Geometric method, Ixv f, Ixviii,
236 f

Gersonides, xxxiii, xxxv

Glory, 96 f, 100, 217 f

God, 21 ff, 119, 153 ff, 172, 184, 187

233, 236, 239
and Nature, xxxv, 22, 25 f,

155 ff, 176 f

and truth, 78, 103, 210
the existence of, 15 ff, 52 f, 172
the highest good, 54, 76, 80 f,

86, 100, 118, 144 ff, 213
the immanence of, 30, 179

God s love of man. 138 ff

Godliness, 143

Goethe, cii

Good and evil, liii ff, 44 f, 51, 54,
59 f, 74 ff, 82, 100, 198 f

Grace, cxxvi, 1 1 8

INDEX

243

Gratitude, 98, 100, 218 f
Greed, 98

Gresham College, Ixii f
Grief, 99, 211, 219
Grotius, xxvii ft, xli
Guide of the Perplexed, The, xxxiii,
xcix, &c. See Maimonides

HALLMANN, civ, cxvii, 165, 234
Happiness, n8ff, 133, 219 f, 234
Hatchet, parable of the, 117
Hatred, 33, 72, 82 ff, 100, 121 ff,

143, 208, 210, 215
Hearsay, 67 f, 71
Heat, 161
Hebrew Grammar, Spinoza s, Ixxxiv,

xcvii
Heereboord, xxxi, 190, 193, 195,

198, 231

Heidelberg professorship, Ixxxix
Heine, xix, xcvii
Hell, 116
" Higher criticism " of the Bible,

xxxiii
Homan, Ivi
Homo Politicus, xcix
Honour, liv, 79
Hope, 90 ff, 213 f
Hudde, Ixix f

Human happiness, 118 ff, 133
Human laws, 139 f
Human weakness, 79
Humility, 87 f, 212, 215
Huygens, xlix, Ixii, Ixix ff, xc
Hypocrites, 87 f
t .,

IBN EZRA, xxi, xxxii f, xxxv

Ibn Gabirol, xxvii

Idea, 50, 63 ff, 67 ff, 76, 102, 106 f,

157 ff, 170, 220
Ideas and existence, 18
Ideas of God, 129
Idea reftexiva, 129, 162, 230, 240
Ideatum, 16 f, 169
Imagination, 18, 85
Immanent cause, 30, 34 ff, 41, 146 f,

179

Immediate mode, 158
Immortality, 61, 101, 123, 135 ff,

145, 147, 162, 232
Impulse, 124
Inciting cause, 42, 194
Indignation, 95, 217
Induction, 68, 70, 73
Infinite idea, 158, 162
Inquisition, the, xii ff, xxv f
In sensu composite, 48, 196 f
In sensu diviso, 48, 196 f
Instrumental cause, 42, 193
" Invisible College," the, Ixiii

JEALOUSY, 90, 92, 214

Jelles, 1 f, liii, Ixvii, xcvii, cv, cxv,

cxxiv

Jesting, 95, 216
Jews, xi ff, 72 f
Joachim, H. H., cxxviii
Joel, M., cxxviii, 196 f, 205, 208,

232, 235
Jones, R., Ixii
Joy, 85 f, 90 f, 211
Judah the Faithful, xxi
Judas, 60

Judgment, 109, 224
Justice, 45

KAMPHUYZEN, Ivi

Karl Ludwig, Elector Palatine,

Ixxxix

Katwijk-aan-Zee, Ivi
Kayserling, xxx
Keckermann, 194
Kerckrinck, xxxix, 1 f
Knowledge, 67 ff, 74, 76, 99, 118,

133 f, 204 f, 208 f, 219, 221 f, 231
Koerbagh, A. and J., Ixii, Ixxx f

LATIN among the Jews, xxx f

Laughter, 95, 124, 215 ff

Law, sin, and grace, cxxvi, 118

Laws of Nature, 139 f, 196

Leibniz, xlix, xc, xciv ff, 169

Lessing, xcvii, cii

Leyden, Ivi

Light in Dark Places, Ixxx

Light on the Candlestick, The, 1

Linde, A. van der, cix

Louis XIV., Ixxi, Ixxxv f, Ixxxviii,

xc
Love, 32 ff, 69, 71 f, 78 ff, 100,

121 ff, 132, 188, 209, 220
of God, 80 f, 116, 123, 133,

144 ff, 210, 233
Lucas, J. M., xc, c, 218
Luxemburg, Count, Ixxxviii

MAIMONIDES, xxvii f, xxxiii, xxxv,
xcix, 167, 174, 176 f, 189, 197 f,
205, 231 ff

Man, 63, n6f, 120, 157, 203, 211
a perfect, 84
and Nature, 140
as the servant of God, 115, 225
Manasseh ben Israel, xxv ff, xxxiv f,

xlv, Ixix, cxxvi
Maranos, xii f
Margaret of Parma, xiv
Martineau, J., cxxviii, 164, 183 f, 210
Matter, 119
Mennonites, xxxvi, xli

244

INDEX

Metaphysical Thoughts, liii, Ixxii,

167, 173, 188, 195 ff, 209, 231, 237
Meyer, L., 1 ff, Ixvii f, Ixxvii, xcvii,

cxvii, cxxiv
Meyer, W., cxvi f, cxxvii, 187, 189 f,

223, 231
Milton, Ixiii
Miracles, 142
Mochinger, xxxi

Modal difference, 153 ff, 220 f, 237
Modaliter, 153 ff

Mode, 33, 55 ff, 63 ff, 78, 153, 158
Monnikhoff, cviii ff, 165 f, 190
Morteira, Saul, xxiii, xxv, xxx,

cxxvi
Motion and rest, 28, 30, 39, 57, 63 ff,

120 ff, 126, 130, 153 ff. 161, 172,

199 ff, 229
Miiller, F., cv f, cix
Murr, C. T. de, cv
Mylius, J. C., cv

Natura naturans, 56, 199 f
Natura naturata, 56 f, 199 f
Natural cause, 41, 193
Nature, xxxv, 30, 32 f, 47, 55 ff,

80, 128, 173, 184
Nature = extension, 28
Nature and God, 22, 25 f, 151 f, 156 f
Navigation Act, the, Ixxvi
Negative theology, 53, 198
Netherlands, the Jews in the, xiii ff
Nil volentibus arduum, Hi
Non-existence, 44
Noordwijk-aan-Zee, Ivi
Nunes, Maria, xv

OBJECT, 169

Objective, 16, 157 f, 168 f

Objective essence, 18, 170

Oblivion, 33

Occasionalism, 226 f

Oldenburg, H., Ixi ff, Ixx ff, xc ff,

cxxiii, 236

Opera Posthuma, xcvi, ciii, ex, 165
Opinion, 67 ff, 105, 118, 131, 204 f
Ouderkerk or Ouwerkerk, xxv,

xlviii f
Ovid, 231

PAIN, 127, 161 f

Pallache, S., xv f

" Passion," 69 ff, 116, 123, 126, 131,

206 f, 213, 217, 219
Passivity, 29 f, 146, 221
Paul, 50, 129
Paul IV., xiii
Perfection, 83, 143
Perpetual Edict, the, Ixxxv

Perrenot (Cardinal Granvelle), xiii

Peter, 50 f, 60, 128 f

Peter Lombard, 177

Philip II., xiii

Philip III., xxv, xl

Philo Judaeus, 198

Plato, xxvii, 50, 172, 225

Pleasure, liv, 79, 145

Political Treatise, The, Ixxxiv,

xciii f

Pollock, Sir F., cxxviii, 218
Powell, E. E., cxxviii
Predestination, 43 f, 48
Predisposing cause, 42, 194
Preservation, 108, 224
Pride, 1 1 5 f

Principal cause, 42, 193
Principia Philosophic Cartesians,

Ixvi ff, Ixx, Ixxxvii, xciv, cix f,

167

Properties or propria, 19, 41, 171
Providence, 47, 50, 197
Provoking cause, 42 f, 193 f
Proximate cause, 42, 188
Psycho-physical parallelism, 227 ff
Pusillanimity, 90 f, 93 f, 214

Rainbow, Essay on the, Ixxxiv, ciii
Rationalism of medieval Jews,

xxxii f
" Real difference," 102, 153 ff, 159,

220 f, 237

Realiter, 102, 153 ff, 159
Reason, 32 ff, 68 f, 74, 80, 94, 99,

131 f, 145, 184 f, 215
Regeneration, cxxvi, 135
Regius, 217
Reimmann, J. F., cv
Relations, 59
Rembrandt, xxviii f
" Remonstrance," the, xli
Remorse, 33, 94, 2i4f
Remote cause, 36, 42, 188
Repentance, 94, 215
Rest, see Motion
Revelation, 141
Riches, liv, 79
Rieuwertsz, 1, liii, Ixviii, xcvi, ciii,

cxvii, 165

Rijnsburg, Iv ff, Ixviii
Rijnsburgers, Ivi, Ixii
Rivaud, A., cxxviii
Robinson, L., 217
Royal Society, the, Ixii f, Ixxi f
Rule of three, the, 67 f, 74
Ruyter, de, Ixxxv

SABBATAI ZEVI, Ixxii

St. Denis, C. de, Ixxix

St. Everemont, Seigneur de, Ixxix

INDEX

Sceptics, 88, 212 f

Schaarschmidt, C., cxix, cxxvii

Schuller, G. H., xc, xciv ft

Scorn, 215

Scotus Erigena, 200

Second notion (or intention), 34,

i86f

Secret Treaty of Dover, the, Ixxxv
Self-love, 96 ff, 100
Self-preservation, 47, 158
Self-respect, 87 f, 212
Senses, the, 129
Shame and shamelessness, 96 f,

217 f
Short Treatise, The, liii, Iv, Iviii ff,

Ixv, Ixx, xcii, xcix, ciii ff
Sigwart, C., cxix, cxxvii f, 169, 176,

183, 195, 199, 202, 205, 230
Silva, S. da, xxxiv, xlii f
Sin, 50 f, 54, 140, 144
Sin, law, and grace, cxxvi, 1 1 8
Sobierre, xxviii
Socinians, xli
Socrates, 82
" Son of God," cxxvi, 57, 134, 160,

200 f

Sorrow, 83, 85 f, 90 f, 94, 100, 116,

123 ff, 210 f
Soul, 63 ff, 1 06 f, 121 ff, 126 ff,

133 ff, 157 ff, 216 f, 227 f
Spain and Portugal, the Jews in,

xiff
Spinoza, his birth, xi

his parentage, xvi ff
his home life, xviii ff
his education, xxiv ff
his excommunication, xlv f
his friends, xlix ff
Spinoza-lane, Ivi
Spinoza Museum, frontispiece, Ivii,

xcvi

Spinoza, statue of, xcvii
Spirits, see Vital spirits
Spyck, H. van der, Ixxxiii, Ixxxvi,

Ixxxviii, xcv f, xcix
Stolle, G., civ f, cxvii
Stoupe, Ixxxvii f

Subjectum, 18 f, 27, 155, 159 f, 168
Subsidiary cause, 42, 193
Sub specie boni, 73, in f
Sub specie mali, 1 1 1
Substance, 21 ff, 33, 55, 63 ff, 153 ff,

172 f, 184, 186, 239
Substance not passive, 29 f
Substance or attribute, 29, 32, 34,

52, 55, 174 f
" Substantial " extension and

thought, 27 f, 63 f
Surprise, 70 f, 77 f, 85, 208 f
Synod of Dordrecht, the, xli

TENNYSON, 226

Terror, 116

Theophilus, 36 ff, 187

" Thing of reason," 38, 59, 75 f,

io6f
Things reveal themselves, 103,

108 ff, 123, 133
Thomas, xciv

Thomas Aquinas, 20, 56, 172
Thomists, the, 56
Thought, 27 f, 30, 52, 57, 63 ff,

120 f, 128 f, 153 ff, 173 ff, 187,

231 f

Timidity, 90, 92, 214
Titelmann, P., xiv
Torquemada, xii
Tractatus de Intellectus Emcnda-

tione, xlix, liii ff, Ixi, Ixv, xci,

xcvi, cii, cxxiii, 198 f, 204, 211 f,

219 f
Tractatus Politicus, Ixxxiv, xciii f,

xcvi
Tractatus Theologico - Politicus,

Ixxiv ff, Ixxxi ff, Ixxxvii, xci,

xciv, xcix, cix, cxvi f, 180, 195 f,

210, 221, 225, 233 f

Transeunt cause, 34, 41, 179
Trendelenburg, A., cxxviii, 190, 225
Triple Alliance, the, Ixxxv
True belief, see Belief
Truth, 94, 102 ff, 220 f
Truth = God, 78, 103, 210
Tschirnhaus, Ixix, xc f, xciv
Turks, xcix, 72 f
Tydemann, Ixviii, Ixxix

UNDERSTANDING, 32, 37 f, 57 f, 99,
106 f, 141 f, 147, 153, 184 f,
199 ff

an immanent cause, 30, 34, 180
passive, 103, 108 ff, 123
Union of Utrecht, the, xiv f, xlii
Union with God, 40, 76, 147, 236
Unity of Nature, 26 f, 32 ff
Universal cause, 42, 194 f
Universals, 50, 59, 106, 197
Uzziel, Rabbi, xxvi, xxix

VACILLATION, 90 ff, 213 f

Vacuum, 28

Veitch, J., 167

Velen, van, Ixxxi, Ixxxiii

Virgil, xxvii

Virtue, 234

Vital spirits, 95, 121 f, i26f, 130,

135, 216 f, 228
Vloten, J. van, cvi, cxxvii
Voluntas and voluptas, 112, 224 f

246

INDEX

Voorburg, Ixvii ft
Vossius, xxvii ft, Ixix
Vries, S. J. de, 1, lii f. Ixviii, Ixxx,
Ixxxiii

WATER, 29

Well-being, human, 105
" Whole," 34, 38, 147, 236

and " cause," 34 f

and " general," 38
Will, 69, 105 ft, 22$
William the Silent, xiv f, xl, xlvii

William II.. Ixxv f

William III., Ixxvi, Ixxxii, Ixxxv f

Willis, R., 165

Witt, Jacob de, Ixxvi

Witt, Jan de, Ixix, Ixxi, Ixxv ft,

Ixxxii, Ixxxiv ft, xciii
Wolf, L., xxx
Wordsworth, cii
Worship, 1 1 6
Wrath, 143

ZACUTO, M., xxii, xxxi

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GOD WITH US

A STUDY IN RELIGIOUS IDEALISM
Crown 8vo, cloth, price 3s. 6d. net (post free, 33. gd.)

"No mere summary of contents can give a true account of the worth of
this volume. Mr. Gibson is a seeker on the quest, and his work has the
freshness and stimulating power which only one on the trail can give. It is
a book sure to be widely read." The Aberdeen Journal.

" It must be counted a work well done and worthy of the doing. It is a
fine example of the art of close reasoning." The Academy.

PUBLISHED BY
ADAM & CHARLES BLACK SOHO SQUAKE LONDON, W.

NATURALISM

AND

AGNOSTICISM

THE GIFFORD LECTURES DELIVERED BEFORE
THE UNIVERSITY OF ABERDEEN IN THE YEARS

1896-1898

By JAMES WARD, Sc.D.

Hon. LL.D. Edinburgh, Professor of Mental Philosophy and Logic in the
University of Cambridge.

Third Edition,Revised. In Two Volumes, demy Svo, cloth, price I8/- net (post free 18/6)

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though it has led to a widespread prejudice against Idealism and so against
Theism, has yet really promoted the interest of both.

"It cannot be doubted that it will have a wide influence on the higher
thought of the country, and may even do something to restore to philosophy
the pre-eminent place it once occupied in English thought." Athenteum.

NATURAL AND SOCIAL
MORALS

By CARVETH READ, M.A.

Grote Professor of Philosophy in the University of London,
Author of " The Metaphysics of Nature."

Demy 8vo, cloth, price 7/6 net (post free, 7/io).

This is an attempt to explain the principles of morality in as close a
relation as possible to human life. It takes account of the historical systems
of ethics, of recent researches into the development of the human race, and
of our present circumstances. The first Book shows how our ideas con
cerning conduct and the good are influenced by social relations, individual
character, and our place in the physical and animal world, and under what
conditions it is possible to treat Morality as the subject of a natural science.
The second Book shows that social institutions are necessary to the good
life, but often react upon it injuriously. It discusses the effect upon morality
of Customs, the Family, the State, Religion, and the Fine Arts, in order to
understand the actual difficulties of conduct.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

THE METAPHYSICS OF
NATURE

Second Edition, demy Svo, cloth, price 7/6 net (post free, 7/io).

"A book which must be ranked among the most important of recent
years." Nature.

" A singularly important contribution it is to the critical and philosophic
theory of our time." Pall Mall Gazette.

PUBLISHED BY
ADAM & CHARLES BLACK SOHO SUAR LONDON, W.

DATE DUE

CAT. NO. 1137

II

{ .-:-:, :: $
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SPINOZA

Spinoza s short treatise on

d, man and his well-being

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